You're all I wanted for Christmas
by strwbrygrl77
Summary: Christmas story prompted by Secret Snowflake on lj comm. Marshall, along with help from Brandi, tries to give Mary an unforgettable Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here's a belated Christmas present for you all! This was written and created for lunar_penguin over on the lj community from her prompts. This story has been almost 2 months in the making - and was SO much fun to write! I LOVE all things Christmas and turn into quite the romantic around the holidays - this story has all ships: Mary/Marshall, Brandi/Peter, and Eleanor/Stan.

* * *

**"_Rockin' around the Christmas tree_

_At the Christmas party hop._

_Mistletoe hung where you can see_

_Every couple tries to stop."_

Brandi hummed to the music playing over the Macy's department store loud speaker system as she sorted through a bin of warm woolen socks for men. Finally she picked two pairs and held them up for approval to her shopping companion.

"What do you think about these, Mer?"

"I think one's black and one's brown."

Brandi's face crumpled. "Come on, I really need your input! You know this is my first Hanukkah and I'm super nervous. I have to buy presents for each night –and not just for Peter but for his sister and her family too." She threw the socks back in the bin and gripped the sides so Mary wouldn't see how badly she was shaking.

"Why didn't you bring Peter, then?"

"Because I wanted his presents to be a surprise – please, Mer! I know it's early and you hate shopping, especially at this time of the year with all the people and stuff but could you stop acting like Ms. Scrooge for the next half hour and be my big sister? Please?"

Mary sighed and got up from where she had been sitting in the shadows of a waiting room area outside the dressing rooms. How she hated this time of year – with its commercialism and the people who put on happy faces for one day but didn't really mean it since they went back to acting like asses the very next day. She had seen too much ugliness in her life even before becoming a US Marshal to know that magic and light and joy didn't exist in this world. But as she walked to Brandi's side and looked into her eyes that were glassy with unshed tears, she knew that once again, she had to bury her own feelings deep and put on a happy face. Squish had finally found someone honorable and who actually might be able to take care of her long term – no, who might actually _want_ to take care of her.

Mary reached into the bin and plucked out a pair. "These brown ones with the small diamond pattern are nice – and so are the navy pinstripe ones you showed me a few minutes ago," she suggested.

Brandi smiled as she dug around in the bin and came up with the socks a minute later. She gave her sister a hug, which Mary stiffly returned.

"Now, can we go eat? You promised me breakfast, remember?"

Brandi laughed. "I know, I know. Soon, I promise. I want to look at the scarves and gloves first."

Mary groaned in dismay as Brandi grabbed her hand and dragged her down the aisle.

Fifteen minutes later, Brandi was still deliberating color choices of scarves while Mary was wishing she had brought her gun so she could have shot out the speakers.

Brandi looked at her in astonishment, one of the scarves dropping to the floor. "You wouldn't?"

Mary leveled her gaze at her sister. "If you take much longer, I'm going to go home and get it."

Brandi gulped and plucked the scarf up off the floor. "Well, I love the color of this one, but I don't think it's right for Peter. Why don't you get it for Marshall?"

Mary shook her head. "He doesn't need a scarf – he has a green one."

"Too bad," Brandi sighed, as she returned it to the pile. "This deep blue would really bring out his eyes."

"What the hell?" Mary sputtered. "Since when have you noticed my partner's eyes, Squish?"

Brandi laughed. "Just because I'm in a serious relationship doesn't mean I don't look – and Marshall is a very handsome man. You mean to tell me you haven't noticed his eyes?"

Her sister's words took her back to that day in the office six months ago that she had tried so hard to forget. Marshall leaning over her desk, his blue eyes intently locked with hers. His voice pitched low but heavy with feeling and intensity as he said: _"Maybe messy is what you need."_

Mary snapped back to the present as Brandi's hand waved in front of her face. "What the hell, Squish?"

"Oh yeah, you've noticed his eyes," Brandi cooed as she walked back to the display. "And much more too, I'll wager."

Mary growled but didn't rise to the bait.

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree-"_

Mary gritted her teeth as Brandi and all the other shoppers in the vicinity belted out the words along with Mariah Carey.

"Baby, all I want for Christmas – is YOU!" Brandi and choir sang.

Mary shut her eyes and rubbed her temples praying this was a nightmare and that when she opened her eyes she would find herself warm and snug in her bed. But when she summoned the nerve to open her eyes, she was still in Macy's on Black Friday with Brandi and half of Albuquerque. The sound system was now playing a version of 'O Holy Night' and her sister had resumed her quiet humming as she picked through the scarves.

"So, what are you getting Marshall for Christmas?"

The question threw her momentarily until she remembered that yes, they had been speaking of her partner before the impromptu sing-a-long had started. She sighed as she recalled the fact that their relationship had never been the same since that day in the office. She knew what he had been trying to say and she knew that he knew she had run away from him.

She knew he had found out about her fling with Faber in Mexico because Mike had shown up in the office a month after her vacation, cocky as hell, to ask her out.

She knew the next morning when she told Marshall that it was over between her and Faber and nothing had happened the night before that she had lost something precious. His eyes were empty when he looked up at her and said: _"I'm glad you found a cowboy to blow off some steam with, Mer. I guess you're just not ready for my kind of messy."_ And he walked away and left her standing there with her mouth hanging open. Her attempts to talk to him later that day had failed. He didn't respond to her calls or texts.

The next two weeks when he sat across the room from her, no conversation, no eye contact, had been like working with a stranger. He had worked alone and Stan had paired her with Charlie. When Marshall had come back to her after two weeks and said they could work together but it needed to be just business, she clutched the offer like a lifeline. Life without her best friend had been hell and she would do whatever it took to get him back. Slowly their working relationship got back on track and she was so desperate to have him back in any capacity that she was willing to let the personal side of their relationship, their friendship, go for now. A few crumbs were better than nothing, right?

But he wasn't bending on the "just business" part. It had been three months now and he was still distant. She knew he had her back one hundred percent in the field and she didn't want another partner but her best friend was gone. In his place was a calm, detached android-like person. She never hung out with him after work and her house was big and empty and quiet with just her wandering from room to room. She wanted company. She wanted Marshall, her best friend, her punching bag, her trivia loving, geeky partner. She wanted the man who brought Chinese takeout and sci-fi movies and laughed with her at the bad special effects.

"Mary?" Brandi was calling her. "Where did you go? You're really out of it today."

Mary snapped back to the present and felt herself grow warm as she realized how long she had been lost in her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Squish, I must be faint with hunger."

Brandi rolled her eyes. "I'm almost done. So, what are you getting Marshall?"

Mary sighed again. Should she get her partner a gift when he insisted on a strictly business relationship?

"Same thing I get him every year."

"Which is?"

"Mary gets me a peppermint pie."

Both women turned at the sound of his voice, Brandi's face wreathed in a welcoming smile while Mary's heart was hammering in her ears. Marshall greeted Brandi but his eyes were seeking out Mary's and finally she raised hers from the floor to meet his gaze.

"I didn't expect to see you out shopping on Black Friday, Mer," he said.

Mary shrugged but it was Brandi who answered. "I bribed her with breakfast at Peep's when we're done."

Marshall grinned and Mary's stomach flipped. _When was the last time I saw him smile like that? _She wondered silently.

"Of course, the best pancakes in the city and Mary must have been putty in your hands." He cleared his throat uneasily. "Well, I'll leave you ladies to your shopping."

Brandi looked between her sister and Marshal in confusion. She didn't understand what was happening here. Mary hadn't said a word to her partner and he couldn't seem to get away from her fast enough. Something had definitely happened between them and Brandi decided she couldn't let Marshall escape so easily. She stepped forward and snagged Marshall's sleeve. "Don't go! I'm glad you're here – I need a favor from you."

"From me?" Marshall echoed, his eyebrow quirking upward.

Brandi nodded. "Have you eaten?"

He hesitated, glancing at Mary before shaking his head.

Brandi squeezed his arm before releasing it. "Good! I'm about done torturing my sister here. Why don't you come to breakfast with us and I'll tell you all about it?"

"Well-"

"Please? It's on me – or rather Peter," Brandi laughed as she pulled out her boyfriend's credit card and waved it in the air.

With another glance at Mary, he nodded. "I'll meet you there."

* * *

"I have to pick just one?" Marshall laughed as chewed on his toast.

Mary rolled her eyes. "I don't think you realize what you're asking, Squish. The man can't even pick his favorite Star Trek character, ok? Asking him to pick his favorite Christmas memory is like asking me what my favorite food is."

Brandi frowned at her sister. "I don't get it – I don't think you have a favorite food."

"Sure I do – more food." Mary smirked as she leaned over and snagged the last piece of bacon off her sister's plate.

"Hey!"

"You weren't going to eat that." Mary dragged the bacon through the syrup on her plate and popped the whole piece into her mouth, grinning.

Brandi turned back to Marshall. "Ok, so what's your favorite Christmas memory growing up?"

"Now, that's an easy one. When I was eight, I finally got my puppy."

"Let me guess – you named him Spock."

Marshall shot Mary an exasperated look before returning his gaze to Brandi. "He was a German shepherd and I named him Black Bart. See, I loved tales of the Old West and the story of Black Bart fascinated me. He was called the "Gentleman Bandit'. He robbed Wells Fargo stagecoaches in California but he never shot anyone and he always said 'please' and 'thank you'."

"An outlaw with manners? How shocking!" Mary's voice was mocking but Brandi shushed her.

"So I named my puppy after the real Black Bart. My dog and I had sixteen years together before he passed away." Marshall cleared his throat and sipped his coffee. "How about you, Brandi? Best childhood Christmas?"

Mary squirmed in her seat, and was so busy wondering what the hell Squish would come up with that it took her a minute to realize that her sister was already speaking.

"-and Mary found this poor little tree that someone had probably already thrown out. I mean, the thing looked like the tree in "A Charlie Brown's Christmas', you know? But we spent the day baking cookies and making homemade ornaments out of clay and paper and popcorn and glitter and whatever else we could find. By nighttime, which was Christmas Eve, it was the most beautiful tree you'd ever seen – and I didn't even miss the lights! Mary lit two candles on either side of it and read the story of Jesus' birth to me from our family bible. Then she blew out the candles and told me we had to go to bed because Santa wouldn't come if we were still awake," Brandi broke off, sniffling. She glanced at Mary, who met her gaze with a small smile.

Marshall sat back against the bench seat of the booth and gripped his coffee mug tightly, trying to control his shaking hands. Two little girls, alone, had celebrated Christmas with whatever they could find. _James Shannon would have been long gone – but damn it, Jinx should have been with them!_ He stared into his coffee cup as if it contained the answers he sought.

He had tried so hard these past six months to move on from Mary Shannon, to get her out of his heart. He had put it all on the desk that day in the office and she had not only run from him – she had run to Faber. She had slept with Faber. Even now, the bile rose in his throat at the images that thought brought to mind. He shook his head. What did it matter? She didn't love him that way and he needed to accept that what he wanted most for Christmas would never be his.

He looked up to find the sisters wiping their eyes. Mary met his gaze and gave him a small smile.

"How old were you?" he asked.

"Brandi was in kindergarten and I was in sixth grade."

_Five and eleven. _As the ages calculated in his head, he tried hard not to flinch outwardly. Brandi had been just a baby and Mary had been way too young to be assuming the duties of running a household. New Jersey was a long ways from New Mexico but he couldn't help wondering what it would have been like if he had known her growing up – how the Mann family could have helped. How things could have been different for Mary and Brandi Shannon – and Jinx.

Brandi cleared her throat and looked at Mary in expectation.

"What?" her eyes darted to Marshall, only to find his eyes on her as well, waiting. "What the hell are you two looking at me like that for?"

"It's your turn, Mer," Brandi said.

"Oh, hell no," Mary shifted in her seat. "You two can go trotting down memory lane if you want but there's nothing about Christmas that I care to remember, all right?" She crossed her arms and leaned back against the booth, staring out the window in defiance.

Brandi appealed silently to Marshall but for several moments it looked like he wasn't going to say or do anything. His eyes flicked nervously between the sisters and the window, before he finally reached out and gently tapped Mary's knuckles with his fingers.

Mary jumped slightly at the contact as her startled gaze again met his. Marshall hadn't touched her – hadn't initiated contact with her in over six months. The brief touch of his fingers against her skin had warmed her and set her pulse racing in a way that hadn't ever happened before. For the first time since that day in the office, their gazes locked and the room disappeared as they communicated without words. Green met blue, held and neither one looked away or blinked.

"Come on, Mer. I know you hate this time of year but deep down inside of you is a little girl who once upon a time believed in the magic of Christmas, the magic of the season." His mouth quirked up in a smile as he added softly, "Think back to a time when life didn't suck."

"Nana," Mary whispered, the word falling from her lips almost involuntarily.

Marshall blinked in surprise. Mary had never mentioned any other family members in the course of their partnership. He had naturally assumed that there were no other living relatives.

"Dad's mom?" Brandi asked, breaking the spell that had formed between the partners.

Mary nodded and once again directed her gaze out the window. "When I was five, Daddy took me to visit Nana for Christmas. She had written him a letter saying she wanted to meet me – Mom refused to go. She said the bitch had always hated her and she refused to spend the holidays with her so I got Daddy all to myself. Nana lived just outside Boston – she had sent bus tickets for us and I thought it was a big adventure. She met us at the station and fussed all over me. She made such a big deal over me that I didn't really pay attention to how sick she looked or the serious conversations she and Daddy had – I was having too much fun. We baked cookies, sang carols, decorated the tree, wrapped presents, went skating and sledding, and Nana told me stories about daddy when he was little." Mary paused and sipped some of her coffee.

"Is that when you got her jewelry box?" Brandi asked.

Mary nodded. "She gave it to me for Christmas."

Brandi waited for her sister to continue but when she remained silent, Brandi turned to Marshall and explained. "It belonged to Nana's grandmother. The box had mother of pearl roses and leaves on the lid and her initials on the front. Mary hardly ever let me touch it when we were kids – she hid it and put her very special and secret treasures in it."

Mary rolled her eyes at her sister. "Squish, I doubt Marshall is interested in our sisterly secrets."

Marshall winked at Brandi. "On the contrary, since I never had sisters, I find this all _very _fascinating."

Mary shot him a dark look as Brandi said, "Come to think of it, I haven't seen that box since you left home to marry Mark. Did you put it in a safety deposit box or something?"

Marshall watched in concern as the shutters came down in Mary's eyes and her body tensed. He watched as she picked up a sugar packet, shook it twice, tore it open, and added it to her lukewarm coffee. He watched as she picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee in a counter-clockwise motion. He watched as she lifted the cup, took a sip, and grimaced at the taste of the now too sweet brew.

He cleared his throat. "Brandi, didn't you have a favor to ask me?"

Brandi looked at her sister in concern. "In a minute, Marshall. Mary, where's Nana's box?"

Marshall fought the urge to kick Brandi under the table. How was it possible that the girl had known Mary for a lifetime and didn't recognize the warning signs that told her to back off? He had only been Mary's partner for seven years and he could tell that she didn't want to discuss it – that she wasn't ready. Perhaps she never would be.

But there was one thing Mary was good at – and that was deflection. "Ask mom."

"Mom? What does she have to do with-" Brandi shook her head in confusion.

Mary slammed her coffee cup on the table, causing her sister to jump. "I'm done talking about Christmas past, Brandi. I never wanted to talk about it in the first place. You want to know where Nana's box is – ask mom. Now, will you ask Marshall for that favor so we can pay the bill and leave?"

Brandi's mouth hung open in shock and Marshall felt sorry for her. She had poked a cornered, wounded hell cat and it had turned around and attacked her. He opened his mouth to pour water on the flames when Brandi's purse started to ring. She pulled out her phone and looked at the I.D.

"It's Peter – I'll be right back," she whispered, standing up and moving away from the table.

Marshall reached his hand across the table, but stopped short of touching her. "Mer-"

Her green eyes met his. "What the hell are you doing here, Marshall?"

"I thought I was eating breakfast with my partner and her sister."

She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief. "Right – except you don't do these sorts of things any more, remember? We have a strictly business relationship. Those were your words, your wishes, not mine. You're the one that's been acting like a spoiled, pouting five year old these past six months."

Marshall leaned across the table and grabbed her wrist. "Well, forgive me if I needed some time and distance after you went to Mexico and screwed Faber six ways from Sunday! Damn it, Mary. _Faber_?" The name came out like shit he was trying to scrap off the bottom of his shoe. He was breathing hard with emotion but he made sure the grip on her wrist was light so she could pull back at any time she wanted.

Mary was held captive by the fire in his eyes and the grip on her wrist that was causing new warm sensations to trickle up her arm. She shivered and watched as his eyes narrowed.

"I never meant to – I mean it's not like you and I– before I left." _What the hell is wrong with me? I can't even get out a complete sentence! _Marshall's thumb was now rubbing the inside of her wrist and Mary was sure he could feel her accelerated pulse.

"I think I made my feelings for you perfectly clear that day – and so did you." His voice was steel, tinged with sadness and the sound of it made Mary ache.

"I'm sorry, Doofus – for everything." She turned her hand over and intertwined their fingers. For a few minutes they sat in comfortable silence before she broke it. "But seriously, what are you doing here, with me, if you're trying to keep your distance?"

Marshall shrugged and squeezed her hand. "You're my best friend, Mer; my life kind of sucks without you."

Green met blue. "Ditto."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both partners looked up to see Brandi standing beside the table, smirking down at their clasped hands.

Mary rolled her eyes. "No, Squish. We were just talking."

Brandi clapped her hands in glee and reclaimed her seat on the bench. "Great! You guys kissed and made up – figuratively speaking, of course," she laughed, watching with great satisfaction as Marshall blushed.

Mary released Marshall's hand and reached for the check, giving it to Brandi. "Hurry up and ask him so I can go back to bed."

Brandi promptly set the check back down on the table and Mary groaned. "So, Marshall, I don't know if Mary told you but I'm celebrating my first Hanukkah with Peter this year-"

"Mazel Tov!" he exclaimed.

"She'll need it," Mary muttered as Brandi poked her in the ribs.

"Anyway, I want to surprise Peter and his family by making potato pancakes one night."

Mary snorted. "Squish, are you insane? None of us can cook unless it comes out of a can or a box!"

Brandi pouted. "With help I'm sure I can follow a recipe!" She turned back to Marshall. "This is where the favor comes in – would you help me? Please?"

Marshall shifted. She wanted to cook something? In his pristine, state of the art kitchen? He chewed the inside of his cheek as Mary chortled.

"There's no way he's going to let you into his kitchen, Squish. I'm not even allowed to touch his coffee maker!" Mary dissolved into giggles.

Brandi bit her lip but then cried, "We could use your kitchen, couldn't we, Mer?"

Mary shrugged. "Sure. I never do – well, not to cook food anyway." Both sisters shared a look and a laugh as Marshall's face flushed. "If you blow something up, I'll just tell the FBI their install was faulty and get them to pay for new equipment."

"Please, Marshall?"

He took a deep breath. "Ok, Brandi. I'll help you make latkes – in _Mary's_ kitchen."

"Oh, thank you!" Brandi shrieked, jumping up and scooting into his side of the booth so she could kiss his cheek. Pulling away, she frowned at him. "Wait, what are latkes?"

Mary snorted.

"Latkes are the Jewish name for potato pancakes," Marshall explained patiently. "They are made of shredded potato, flour, egg, and seasonings. Traditionally they are also fried in olive oil to commemorate the oil. . . ." Marshall's trivia rolled off his tongue as an enraptured Brandi sat soaking up the information like a sponge.

Mary leaned over and grabbed Peter's credit card. "Waitress!" she yelled, waving the check in the air, biting back the smile that threatened to escape.

Her geeky, trivia loving partner was back. Perhaps there was something to this magic of the season after all. Perhaps this year there would be something to celebrate.

Because she had just gotten what she wanted for Christmas; she had gotten her Marshall back.

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***Much more to come - but Lunar gets to open the presents (i.e. chapters) first! Reviews are love!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2 - So, what did happen to Nana's box?

* * *

**

"_I'll have a Blue Christmas without you  
I'll be so blue just thinking about you  
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree  
won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me."_

Stan closed the interoffice email and sighed. In years past he had always been excited for the annual WitSec Secret Santa – even dressing up as the big man himself to distribute the gifts at the party. But this year, his festive mood was missing and he didn't know if he could get it back. He looked out into the main office area and saw Charlie sitting in **her** spot. It didn't matter that it wasn't her desk, or that she hadn't occupied the area in almost a year. What mattered was that when he glanced that way he thought he saw her. When he came in early, he thought he heard the sound of her boots in the small kitchen.

Stan put his head in his hands and took some deep breaths. He had been a fool, an old fool. He had fallen in love – and for awhile he had waited patiently and taken things slowly because she was scared and grieving the loss of her husband. But as time went on, he knew she wasn't going to stay with him – no one had ever chosen to stay with Stanley McQueen. And so last Christmas in a desperate attempt to fight the end he knew was coming, he pulled out all the stops and proposed. By New Year's Day she was gone, her resignation on his desk along with her copy of his house keys.

"_I do love you, Stan, but it's too fast, too soon. Please give me some more time."_

He snorted into his hands. Time? If he continued to wait he would look like Father Time before he got what he wanted for Christmas. A knock on his door made him lift his head and straighten his shoulders.

"Come in."

Charlie stuck his head into the office. "You ok, Sir? I saw you slump over a few minutes ago and I got worried."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Did you think I was having a stroke in here?"

Charlie swallowed nervously and shook his head.

"I'm not that old, kid; now quit calling me sir and get back to work!" Stan barked.

"Yes, sir – I mean, I'm sorry, chief!" Charlie replied, backing out of the office and returning to his desk at a fast walk.

Marshall paused in his typing to whisper across the floor. "I told you not to go in there."

"I was worried about him," Charlie defended himself.

Mary snorted from behind her coffee cup. "Kid, you're lucky he didn't blow your head completely off. Stan's been in a foul mood ever since Thanksgiving. He's giving me a run for the title of 'Scrooge'."

Marshall cocked his head. "You're right, Mer. Our jolly boss is not so jolly this year – I wonder why? What's different between this year and last?" he pondered aloud.

Charlie ran a finger around his collar nervously. "I'm the new kid on the block – is it something I did?"

Marshall's eyes widened and his hands stilled over the keyboard. "Maybe not what you did but the mere fact that you're here and someone else isn 't!" he whispered eagerly to Mary.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Here we go again with your conspiracy theories, Gidget."

He grinned at her. "Ridicule if you must, but I know what I saw in the office that day – and other days too."

She set her coffee cup down with a bang. "What other days?"

He resumed typing. "I don't think I'll tell you. You always take it to an ugly place."

Charlie looked back and forth between the bickering partners in confusion. "I don't understand – are you guys talking about the Chief?"

Mary shot him a death glare over her shoulder. "Butt out, kid! The grownups are talking."

Charlie flushed dark red and picked up a file folder, burying his face on the other side.

"Mer, that was uncalled for! Don't be so rude to him – he's terrified of you as it is."

Mary laughed as Stan threw open his office door and strode onto the main floor.

"Okay, people listen up. I just received an interoffice email telling me it's that time of year again – time for our annual WitSec Christmas party and you know what that means." He looked around the room expectantly.

Marshall grinned; Mary groaned and put her head down on her desk while Charlie looked at Stan blankly

"Secret Santa, Charlie," Marshall explained.

"Oh!" Charlie nodded. "But there's only four of us – well, five if you count Theresa; and that's not enough people for a really good game of Secret Santa."

"We also have the new marshals from Phoenix in our office who will be participating this year," Stan said.

"And the girls from payroll who sign our checks always join us," Marshall added. "Stan, the party isn't going to be on Christmas Eve, is it?"

Stan shook his head. "No, too many of us are going to be out of town if nothing comes up with a witness. Mary, you'll be able to hold down the fort?"

Mary lifted her head and a paper clip that had been pressed against her forehead fell to the desk top. She rolled her eyes at Marshall's snicker. "Yeah, chief."

"Great." Stan cleared his throat. "So the party is going to be on Friday night, Dec 17th at the Andaluz Hotel."

Mary's and Marshall's mouths fell open but it was Charlie who spoke. "Is that downtown?"

Stan nodded.

"Allison Pierce approved that? It's a four diamond hotel!" Mary sputtered.

Stan shrugged. "I guess she doesn't want to be shown up by the big boys – wants to give you all a nice Christmas bonus."

"Gee, thanks, a gourmet dinner where the servings are so small that I'll go home hungry and a present from some yahoo that I won't be able to return," Mary muttered under her breath.

"That's my girl," Marshall grinned.

Mary felt something like a warm blanket surround her. It had been so long since Marshall had spoken those words to her – much longer than the six months he had distanced himself from her. She realized with a start that things had slowly been deteriorating in their relationship over the last couple of years. When had it actually started to go south? Was the damage reversible? She shivered as a shadow fell across her.

"Mer? What's wrong – are you cold?"

She looked up into the concerned eyes of her partner as he perched on the side of her desk. She realized that she had missed the rest of Stan's announcement and he had moved off with Charlie to the coffee machine to discuss something more work related.

"I'm afraid I missed the end of Stan's announcement. When do we get the name of our victims?"

Marshall shook his head at her. "Mary, please promise me that you will play nicely with the other children this year. No reindeer poop, or jellybeans that taste like dirt, or actual pieces of coal."

Mary was shaking with laughter as he ticked off her presents of the past. "But, Marshall," she whined. "Buying those kinds of presents is the only thing that helps me get into the Christmas spirit!"

He leaned down and gently pulled a paperclip from the tangled ends of her hair, letting it fall from his fingers as he breathed into her ear, "Well, maybe I'll just have to help you find other ways to get into the spirit of the season."

Mary shivered again as he pulled away and wondered if the heating system was broken as she couldn't seem to get warm. As he pulled away to resume his seat on the edge of her desk she said, "You can monitor my shopping – unless I draw your name, of course."

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't matter – you get me the same present every year."

Charlie's attention had been drawn by this last statement. "You buy Marshall the same thing every year?"

Mary glared at him but Marshall nudged her knee so she shrugged and answered. "Yeah, a peppermint pie."

"What's so special about that?"

"The special part is – Mary buys it for me and doesn't beg, borrow, or steal a single piece of it. I get the whole pie to myself," Marshall explained with a smile at his partner and Mary stuck her tongue out at him.

Charlie shrugged like he still didn't get it and Stan chuckled. "They've been together for seven years, kid. It's an inside joke – you'll never get it."

"Do you?"

Stan smiled. "Of course – but I'm the man." With one last look at his kids, he went back inside his office.

"So what do you get Mary?" Charlie asked Marshall.

Mary scowled, clearly wanting this conversation to be over so the men moved to Marshall's desk. She bent her head over the paperwork to give the illusion she was working and not listening, but Marshall knew better.

"Mary told me at the beginning of our partnership that she didn't celebrate holidays and didn't want a big fuss made over her birthday either."

"So, you've never gotten her a Christmas present?" Charlie asked, incredulous.

"Correct."

"Wow."

Mary waited for the punch line and Marshall didn't disappoint. "I get her anniversary presents instead. See, Mary and I met on December 9, 2003 and officially become partners on the following Monday, the 15th. When she gave me that speech about holidays and I realized that our partner anniversary was just 10 days before Christmas, I decided to split the difference and call her Christmas present an anniversary present instead."

"That's brilliant!" Charlie was in awe.

"Cheeky bugger!" Mary muttered from her desk.

Marshall turned and grinned at her. "Of course, I knew she'd figure it out eventually – and she did. But I still call it an anniversary present and she pretends she doesn't know what I'm doing."

"So, what have you bought her over the years?"

"Marshall!" Mary growled threateningly.

"Ah, I think I've said all I can on the subject, Charlie," Marshall smiled. "You can come to me for some pointers if you draw her name for Secret Santa."

Charlie gulped audibly.

"Marshall!" Mary hissed.

His answering laugh was cut short by the ringing of his cell. "This is Marshall."

"_Hi, Marshall, it's Brandi. Please don't let Mary know you're talking to me!"_

"Hey, what's up?" Marshall's eyes flicked nervously to Mary, who had lifted her head when his phone rang and was watching his end of the conversation closely.

"_I was wondering if you could come meet me for lunch if you're not busy – and just you, without my sister?"_

"Are you ok?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew they had been the wrong ones to say for now Mary's radar was really pinging and she was halfway out of her chair. He motioned her to sit back down with his free hand.

"_Not really – I mean, I'm not in jail or at the police station or anything, I'm just upset. Look, it's about what we were talking about at Peep's the other morning. Please, I need to talk to you to see if you can help me."_

Marshall rubbed his forehead and tried to think. The other morning at Peep's – they had talked about Christmas memories: his puppy, Brandi's childhood tree, Nana's box . . . was that it?

"Are you sure we can't talk about this later? I mean, I'll be seeing you-" He stopped before he said the words 'in a few hours' because that would definitely let Mary know who was on the other end of his phone. He heard Mary's cell ring and watched her answer, relieved to have her distracted so he could talk more openly. "Ok, Mary's distracted so I can talk. What's the matter?"

"_I asked mom like Mary said and I really need to talk to you – to see if we can help Mary have a Merry Christmas, Marshall." Brandi hiccupped._

"Where are you?" He listened as she gave the name of a small coffee shop that served breakfast and lunch and wasn't too far from the office. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?" Hanging up, he shrugged into his black long coat and picked up his scarf. Turning back around, he nearly knocked Mary over because she was standing so close to him.

"Who was on the phone?" she demanded, her eyes narrowed. "You're in a big rush all of a sudden."

"Well, it's lunch time and there's nothing going on at the moment so I thought I'd go grab something while it's still quiet."

"I see," she said, her eyes narrowing even further.

"Who was on your phone?" he redirected her.

"Peter – he wants to take me to lunch. He said he has an important matter to discuss with me."

Marshall's eyes widened. "Really? I wonder what that's about?"

Mary shrugged. "He's probably seen the real Brandi Shannon and is ready to boot her ass back on the street if I don't let her move back in with me."

"Mary! I can't believe you'd say that. Peter's a great guy and he loves your sister."

"What does that have to do with anything? Raph was a great guy and he loved me – and look what happened there." She turned away but her movement was halted as he placed his hand on her arm.

He tugged gently until she was leaning back into his coat covered chest. "What happened between you and Raphael – don't you think it was better to have found out _before_ the wedding that you weren't in love with him?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "How did you-" but her words broke off when she saw his smirk. She allowed herself to relax in his hold, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment. "I suppose. But what's so great about love anyway? I lost a great guy because I didn't love him enough." She shook out of his hold and turned to face him. "And I nearly lost my best friend this year too through my own selfish actions."

"But you didn't. I told you – my life sucks without you. So you're stuck with me for the long haul, I'm afraid."

She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Enjoy your lunch, Marshall. Whoever she is, she's a very lucky lady."

As she moved back towards her desk, he opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong, that the lunch "date" was with her sister. But then he closed his mouth and headed for the elevator. Let her keep her assumptions for now. Christmas was the season for secrets and surprises. If he and Brandi were able to make a magical Christmas for Mary, he wanted it to be a surprise – because if she knew and it didn't come to pass, she'd be disappointed. And she'd had too many disappointments in her life. He wouldn't add one more to the list.

* * *

Marshall pushed open the door of Lindy's Coffee Shop and was scanning the lunch rush for Brandi when the blonde tackled him in a bone crushing hug.

"Oh Marshall! Thank God you came!" she sobbed against his chest.

"Brandi. Brandi! I can't – breathe!" he wheezed.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" she cried, releasing him instantly. He staggered at the sudden freedom but she grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd to a booth along the back wall where Jinx was sitting.

Marshall was instantly tense. While he had gotten more comfortable around Brandi, something about Jinx Shannon still set his teeth on edge. Try as hard as he could, he just couldn't seem to relax in her presence. Fortunately, the older woman seemed to be gathering her stuff to leave. As they approached, Jinx stood and pulled on her gloves.

"Marshall! You're looking well – though a bit thin. You need a good woman to fatten you up," Jinx admonished, shaking a gloved finger at him.

"My mom says the same thing," Marshall smiled at her.

"Mom, can't you stay for a few minutes? I'm sure Marshall would like to hear the story from you."

"Look, Sweetie, I told you before I met you for lunch that I only had an hour. I'm doing private lessons now so my students can be ready for their recitals. I have to go." She gave Brandi a kiss and Marshall watched as the younger woman barely returned the affection.

Jinx pouted. "You gonna be mad at me forever, Sweetie?"

Brandi rolled her eyes. "No, mom, but Nana's box was a family heirloom and what you did broke Mary's heart. It practically threw her into Mark's waiting arms."

Jinx raised her gloved finger again. "I did what I had to for my girls."

"Really, mom? Did all the money go for the bills? Or did some of it go down your throat?" Brandi cried.

Jinx gasped, a gloved hand covering her mouth as she swooned on her feet.

Marshall prayed she wouldn't faint here in Lindy's and cause a scene; besides, he really didn't want to try and catch her.

"I'm sorry, mom, I-" Brandi reached out but Jinx pushed her aside.

"I'll see you later, Sweetie, after you've had time to calm down." With a sob, Jinx fled the coffee shop.

Marshall turned in time to catch a sobbing Brandi in his arms. As he tried to calm the hysterical woman he wondered how his partner's lunch was going.

* * *

"So, you're probably wondering why I asked you to lunch."

Mary looked up from cutting her steak. Setting her knife and fork down for the moment, she reached for her water glass and took a long sip. "I will admit that you've piqued my curiosity – I can only assume this is about Brandi."

Peter smiled. "It is."

Mary nodded grimly. "I wondered how long it would take you to realize that you'd made a mistake."

"Excuse me?"

"Moving in with my sister. I tried to warn you, if you'll recall. She's got some real annoying habits and quirks-"

Peter's grin grew. "Don't we all?"

Mary looked at him in confusion for a moment. "I suppose. But Brandi – well, she's needy. She needs someone to look after her and it's a thankless, draining, exhausting job. Believe me, I know whereof I speak."

Peter's right eyebrow rose. "Do you?"

"Of course," Mary popped a piece of steak into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. "So when do you want her stuff out?"

Peter began to laugh. Mary set her fork down and blinked at him in surprise. Had living with Brandi driven the poor man round the bend?

Finally Peter wiped his eyes and took a long drink from his own glass of water. "Oh Mary, I think we have been talking at cross purposes."

"We have?"

He nodded. "I agree with you that Brandi's habit of clipping and painting her toenails in bed is not her most endearing quality – but she has many others that make up for it, believe me."

"Gross, Peter, I'm trying to eat here," Mary made a face as she swallowed a mouthful of baked potato.

"I apologize." He held up his hands in silent appeal. "I also agree with you that she needs someone to look after her, to keep her out of trouble. But I don't find it a thankless, draining, exhausting job. I rather find it a rewarding, replenishing, and refreshing job to take care of Brandi."

Mary's mouth fell open in disbelief. Peter had definitely lost his mind – either that or Marshall was right and the man really did love her sister.

She narrowed her eyes at the man sitting across the table from her.

"What?"

"I can't believe it," Mary said, shaking her head.

"What is it you can't believe?"

"I can't believe that I'm finally having lunch with a man who is madly in love with my sister."

Peter grinned.

"You are, aren't you? In love with Brandi?"

He nodded. "That's why I asked you to lunch, Mary."

She scrunched her brow in confusion. "To tell me you're in love with my sister?"

He laughed. "No. Well, yes, but also to ask for your permission to marry your sister."

* * *

By the time Marshall's chicken, biscuits, and gravy had arrived at the table Brandi had composed herself enough to tell Marshall what had happened to Nana's box. Jinx had taken it from Mary's hiding place one day when the girls were at school and pawned it.

Brandi sniffled into Marshall's handkerchief. "Mom swears to me it was to pay back rent and the heating bill but I know that Mary was working herself to the bone at Joe's diner after school and on weekends to pay those same bills. All of **her **money went to the bills and for groceries. Whatever was left she spent on school supplies for her and me. I remember mom having a boyfriend about that time, one that she was desperately trying to impress – maybe she sold the box so she could pretty herself up for him. I don't know. All I know is when I got off the bus that afternoon, I could hear Mary and mom screaming at each other from down the block. Mary blew past me before I got in the house but mom refused to tell me what the fight had been about. All these years and I never knew!"

"What did you mean when you told your mother that she pushed Mary into Mark's arms?"

Brandi hung her head. "The fight happened in late February – a couple of weeks after Mary's birthday. After it happened, Mary was hardly ever home. She moved in with Sally, one of Mark's band members, but she still continued to send the money from her job home and she still checked up on me. After her graduation ceremony, she and Mark rode off on his Harley and eloped."

Marshall absorbed this news and continued to eat while Brandi wiped her eyes.

"Do you want your handkerchief back?" she sniffed, holding it out to him.

He looked at the makeup smeared, tear stained piece of cloth and smiled at her. "No, Brandi. You keep it, wash it with your stuff and I'll get it back later."

She giggled. "I swear you and Peter are the only guys I've ever known that actually carry handkerchiefs."

"That's because we were raised to always be prepared to help a damsel in distress," he winked at her before popping a large bite of fried chicken in his mouth.

Brandi sighed. "I just don't understand why my sister hasn't snapped you up yet. Does she think you'll wait for her forever?"

Marshall choked on his food, tears rising to his eyes as he struggled to swallow and then breathe. Brandi rushed around to his side of the booth and began thumping him on the back.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said something like that when you were eating!"

He had gotten his food down the right tube and was now trying to breathe, the tears streaming down his face. Brandi grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and wiped his face. The coughing fit was passing and he allowed Brandi to guide his head onto her shoulder.

The waitress appeared and in a voice devoid of emotion asked if they needed anything. Brandi glared at her and waved her off, calling her a bitch as she drifted away.

Marshall pulled away from her shoulder and leaned back against the wall of the booth. "Perhaps you are related to that hellcat of a partner of mine after all."

Brandi blushed. "I'm really sorry, are you ok?"

He nodded. "What were you saying before I tried to kill myself? Something about my feelings for Mary?" he looked at her warily.

She bit her lip. "Oh Marshall, don't try and hide your feelings from me – I've known forever that you're in love with my sister, longer than she has, I think."

He sighed and picked up his tea, taking a cautious sip. "You've never said anything to her?"

Brandi shook her head.

"Why?"

"Well, because she was with Raph."

Marshall raised his eyebrows. "She's always with someone, isn't she?"

"She isn't with anyone now."

"I know."

"So, now's the perfect time to-"

"Brandi-" he sighed her name and she stilled on the seat next to him. "I tried, ok? I poured my heart out to her and she ran away to Mexico with another guy."

"Oh. That explains why you guys were acting so weird at Macy's"

"Yeah."

"So, now what?"

"Now, we're back to the beginning – we're rebuilding our partnership and our friendship."

"And that's enough?"

He turned and met her eyes – green, so like Mary's but hers were a bit darker. "It'll have to be. Friendship is all Mary has to give me." With a great effort he shook off his melancholy. "But didn't you ask me here for my help? So far all you've done is tell me what happened to the box."

"And tried to kill you," Brandi added with a smile.

"Not intentionally," he smiled back. "So what do you need my help with?"

"I need your help finding this." She reached into her purse, pulled out a snapshot and placed it in his hands.

He gasped. "Brandi – is this Nana's box?"

She nodded eagerly. "Mom said the jeweler she took it to said it's mid 19th century and that the box is made of rosewood."

Marshall gripped the edges of the photo and tried in vain not to picture his hands around Jinx's throat instead.

"It's beautiful," he breathed.

"Isn't it?" Brandi sighed. "My description didn't do it justice, huh? You have to help me get it back for her, Marshall."

Marshall's head snapped up. "What? Brandi, that's – " he broke off at the childlike hope he saw in her eyes. "That's one tall order, even for Santa."

"But mom gave me the name of the shop she went to and we have the photo and you can blow it up and enhance it and stuff, right? And you're a US Marshal and you have connections, right?" Brandi was bouncing on the seat.

"Brandi, I can't go around abusing my US government privileges!" he hissed.

She stuck out her lower lip. "Not even for Christmas? Not even for Mary?" She placed another snapshot in his hands, this one of a five year old Mary with Nana and the box clasped between them.

Marshall drew a deep shuddering breath. The girl Mary in the photo had the biggest smile on her face and her eyes were lit with childhood innocence – two things that he had never seen on adult Mary's face. What he wouldn't give to see even a glimmer of that light in her eyes or a hint of a true smile on her face.

"All right, Brandi," he sighed. "I'll help you look for Nana's box. But this is our secret, okay?"

"Absolutely!" she shrieked as she hugged him tight.

* * *

**The plot thickens - can Brandi really keep a secret? Will they really be able to find Nana's box after all this time? Stay tuned. Reviews are LOVE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**One of lunar_penguin's prompts was: potato pancakes & Brandi's first Hanukkah. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as she did!

* * *

**"_Jingle bells, jingle bells_

_Jingle all the way_

_Oh what fun it is to ride_

_In a one horse open sleigh!"_

Marshall smiled at Brandi's off key singing as he sprinkled salt over the latkes she had just taken out of the pan. Brandi leaned over the food, inhaled deeply and looked up at him with a grin.

"These look wonderful – much better than the first ones I burnt to a crisp!" she laughed.

Marshall opened the oven and slid the dish inside to keep the food warm. "But they still tasted good! You should be very proud of yourself, Brandi. You made these all by yourself with very little help from me." He moved over to the island and began wiping it down.

"But you chopped the onion for me – I'm such a wuss when it comes to onions. My eyes burn and tear so badly I just know I would have chopped off my fingers and I don't think blood was on the recipe!"

Marshall laughed. "Don't worry – I won't tell on you. Besides, Peter will love that you went to the time and trouble to make latkes."

Brandi turned off the burner and swung around to face him. "It's not Peter I'm trying to impress."

Marshall cocked an eyebrow. "His sister?"

"In her eyes I'll never be good enough for Peter."

"Is that why you wanted to make the latkes?"

"Not at first – I wanted to make potato pancakes before met Rachel. They were going to be my present to Peter and everyone on the last night of Hanukkah."

"So what changed?"

"I met Rachel. She's perfect: the perfect wife, the perfect cook, the perfect mother, the perfect woman. She's done nothing but question and criticize me ever since she stepped off the plane. The last few nights have been like a movie: 'Nights of Hanukkah Hell.'"

"It sounds like she's just being the protective older sister, Brandi."

"But she's younger than Peter!"

Marshall chuckled. "Surely Peter has defended you? Told his sister to mind her own business?"

Brandi's face softened. "Peter's been wonderful. But I'm afraid it's putting a strain on their relationship and the last thing I want to do is come between brother and sister."

Marshall sighed as he noticed that Brandi's eyes were once again swimming with tears. When did he become Brandi's confidante? Didn't she have Mary to talk about relationship issues with? He had spent the last six months trying to get some distance from Mary emotionally only to end up back where he'd started: being her best friend and longing for something more. And now he had ended up trying to help Brandi with her problems as well.

No, he had to revise his earlier thought. He wasn't back where he'd started – somehow he'd gotten himself even deeper entangled in Mary's personal life.

"Sit down, Brandi, and try to relax. You don't have to be home for another hour, do you?"

She glanced at the microwave clock and shook her head.

"I'll make us some tea and you can tell me more about Nana's box."

Brandi waited until Marshall had joined her at the island and both of them had steaming cups of peppermint tea before she responded to his statement about Nana's box.

"I don't know what else I can tell you about the box, Marshall."

"Well, is there anything else you can add to the physical description of it? Anything I can tell my sources that will help identify it?"

"You mean aside from the initials 'MMS' on the front?"

He nodded. "What do the initials stand for?"

"They are Nana's Gran's initials: Mary Margaret Shannon. The box was a wedding present from her husband, Sean Patrick Shannon," Brandi said dreamily. "Mary and I are named after her, you know," she added as she took a sip of tea.

"But – your name is Brandi Elizabeth," Marshall stated in confusion.

She grimaced. "It is now, but I was christened Margaret Elizabeth. See, when I was a teenager, as part of my rebellious phase I legally changed my name to Brandi." She shrugged and then giggled at the surprised look on Marshall's face. ""Margaret was such an old fashioned name. I wanted something hip and cool. After all, everyone called mom 'Jinx', so why couldn't I have a different name too?"

Marshall opened and closed his mouth, trying to follow her twisted logic. Finally he blurted out, "Wait, are you telling me your mom's name isn't Jinx?"

Brandi snorted. "No, that's more like her nickname." Suddenly she gasped. "Oh my gosh, I completely forgot! Mary carved our initials inside the box! You know: MES and a little number two, for her and me! She said that way if the box ever got lost or stolen, we'd be able to find it because it had our Nana's gran's initials and OUR initials in it. This helps, right?"

Marshall nodded woodenly, his mind spinning with all the information he had learned about the Shannon family in the past week. He fought the headache that was trying to form behind his temples and stored the information about MES squared in his brain for later as the back door swung open.

"Good God, what is that smell!" Mary thundered as she strode into the kitchen.

Brandi stood up and looked nervously at Marshall. "Does it smell bad?"

"No! It smells heavenly! Where's the food?" She crossed the kitchen and opened the oven door. "Aha!" she cried, reaching her hand in for the pan only to cry out as it was slapped away by her sister's.

"Don't touch! I made those for Peter, Rachel, John, Lydia, Samuel, Jesse, and Hannah."

Mary gaped at her for a moment before laughing. "I think you forgot Jesus, Mary, and Joseph there, Squish."

Brandi planted her hands on her hips. "Rachel is Peter's sister, John is her husband, and the others are their beautiful children. Mary, don't!" she cried as her sister reached in to break off a piece of crispy latke.

"All right, all right, I won't eat your precious potato pancakes! But consider this my Christmas present to you because I am starving," Mary growled as she plopped onto the stool her sister had vacated.

"There's no need to be so ugly about it – yours are in the microwave," Brandi cooed.

"Why didn't you say so?" Mary exclaimed as she practically shoved her sister aside to get to the food.

"Perhaps she would have if one of us could get a word in, Mer," Marshall spoke for the first time, raising his mug at her in a salute.

"Oh, Doofus, I didn't even see you there," Mary said as she sat back down and shoved a large piece of latke into her mouth.

He rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

She made a face at him and turned back to her sister. "These are really good, Squish, I'm impressed. You made these all by yourself? With real potatoes and stuff?"

Brandi opened her mouth to give Marshall some credit but he beat her to it.

"Yes, she did. I think we have the makings of a chef on our hands."

"Wow, Marshall, thanks." Brandi blushed as Mary grunted. "I think I have come a long way – after all, I know that limes and lemons are different fruits now."

Marshall nearly choked on his sip of tea as Mary snickered.

Brandi looked at the time and grew flustered, saying she wanted to get home before Rachel got back from shopping with the kids. Marshall helped her wrap the warm latkes and carried them out to the car.

When he returned to the kitchen, Mary was staring thoughtfully into space, drinking the rest of his peppermint tea. He chuckled softly when he saw Brandi's nearly full cup sitting untouched by her elbow, but said nothing as he picked up her now empty plate and put it in the dishwasher.

Mary stirred as he was pouring Brandi's tea down the drain and she flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, string bean, was this your cup? I meant to grab Squish's."

He leaned one hip against the counter and smiled at her. "My cup doesn't have lipstick on the rim, Mer." He waved the mug at her, showing Brandi's passion pink lipstick on the edges, before placing it on the top rack of the dishwasher. "Don't worry about it, there's plenty of hot water if I want more."

"So how was lunch with Peter?" he asked as he reclaimed his seat at the island.

Mary shrugged a shoulder. "That's what I was just sitting here thinking about. He's going to ask Brandi to marry him tonight."

Marshall blinked in astonishment but felt a grin spreading across his face at the same time. "That's – wow – that's wonderful. You must be so happy for them. This is wonderful news."

Mary tilted her head. "You think she'll say yes?"

Marshall's grin faded. "You don't?"

"I don't know. I've been sitting here thinking that I don't know my sister well enough to know whether or not she'll say yes."

"Mer," Marshall whispered, reaching across the large table top and taking her hand in his. "She's been living with him for six months now. She's gone to all this trouble to cook for him and his family for Hanukkah. Have you ever known your sister to make those kinds of commitments to any other man?"

Mary shook her head, not trusting her voice, as her vision grew blurry. She gripped his hand like a lifeline, silently vowing that now that she had him back in her life, back in her kitchen, she would never let him go.

"Brandi saying yes or no – that's not what's bothering you, is it? Because you know she loves Peter, you know she'll say yes."

Mary hung her head as she felt one lone tear escape and slide down her cheek.

Marshall felt his heart break a little at the sight of that tear. With his free hand, he placed two fingers under her chin, lifted her face, and swiped the tear away with his thumb. Green met blue. "Tell me," he urged. "What happened at lunch?"

She took a slow deep breath, not looking away from his eyes or moving from his touch. "Peter asked me for permission to marry Brandi."

He nodded slowly. It made sense that Peter would ask Mary for permission to marry her sister since there wasn't a father figure to ask. Mary had been father and mother to Brandi her whole life; she had taken care of her sister from birth. Now Peter wanted to step in and provide for her sister. Marshall didn't think Mary knew _how_ to relinquish Brandi's care to another person – let alone a man. God only knew how Peter's request had made her feel.

"He loves her and wants to take care of her – but what if he changes his mind later? What if he leaves?" Mary whispered.

Marshall's heart broke a little more. His girl didn't believe in 'happily ever after' – and if he was being honest with himself, she had a lot more than just her own life experiences to back up her claims. Being US Marshals had shown them the worst sides of people and their failed relationships over the years.

"Then you will be there to pick up the pieces," he reassured her. "In the meantime, be happy for her and take comfort in the fact that there will always be an endless stream of witnesses who need you."

Mary's mouth fell open in a soft gasp. "How did you-?"

He smiled softly. "Because I know you, Mer. You need to take care of people. You need to feel needed – we all do. It's written in our DNA. It's not a sign of weakness."

She snorted and tried to move out of his hold but he gripped her chin tighter, running his thumb across her cheek in a motion that was dangerously close to a caress.

"It's not – neither is it a sign of weakness to admit that you get lonely just like the rest of us." Before he lost his nerve, he leaned forward and breathed a kiss against her temple. "People need people, Mer."

To distract herself from her thundering heartbeat and the fact that she could still feel his lips against the side of her head, Mary pulled away from his grip and said, "You're not going to burst into song, are you?"

Marshall blinked, momentarily confused until he realized that he had nearly quoted a lyric from Barbra Streisand's 'People'. He chuckled. "No, I'll leave the singing to your sister."

She groaned. "How badly did she torture you?"

"Well, she didn't get really warmed up until we started frying the latkes – before that, she was just humming. But once they were in the pan, she cranked up the radio and every song that came on that she knew the words to-"

Mary was waving her free hand. "You don't have to paint me a picture – trust me, I was treated to the 'Brandi' concert in Macy's on Black Friday. In fact, just before you showed up she and all the shoppers in the area were singing like one mass choir." She shuddered, then realizing that her hand was still clasped in his, she reluctantly let go.

Marshall took her empty tea cup and placed it in the dishwasher. Noticing that it was full, he added soap and started the wash cycle. "So, what was the song?"

"Hmm?" Mary had once again become lost in her thoughts.

"That Brandi and all the shoppers in Macy's were singing?"

"Geez, you really think I was paying attention to that sentimental drivel? I had my eyes clamped shut and blood was pouring out of my ears from the God awful racket they were all making."

"Now, that's a charming holiday picture, Mer. You should think about writing for Hallmark." His voice was laced with sarcasm but Marshall saw the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried not to smile at his quip.

"Wait, are you leaving?" she asked, noticing for the first time that he had his scarf around his neck and one arm in his coat.

"What gave me away?" he asked as he shrugged his black coat on over his shoulders. "Now that Cinderella has done her chores and cleaned up your kitchen, I should be heading home."

"But why? I thought -" she broke off, glancing nervously around her spic and span kitchen. The house was already closing in on her and he wasn't even gone yet.

Marshall looked at his partner in concern. He thought they had talked through the lunch with Peter. She had shared more than she usually did about her fears and a minute ago he had almost gotten her to smile.

Now he heard the fear and uncertainty in her voice again and it surprised him. Vulnerability was not something Mary Shannon allowed others to see in her – not even her partner of seven years. For her to allow Marshall to see that side not once but twice in one night was unprecedented.

But he had hesitated too long – she was already retreating.

"I'm sorry, you must have plans. I'll just see you tomorrow at the office, Marshall." Mary had stood and was now leaning against the island for support as she bent down to take off her work boots.

Why did she do that? Rush in to fill the silence before he had a chance to answer her question? Was she afraid he was taking too long to think? That the longer he took to formulate a response the less likely she would like his answer?

When she straightened up, she was surprised to find her partner in front of her. He reached out and gripped her elbows lightly as she focused on an area just below his neck, refusing for the first time to meet his eyes.

"Mer, tell me what you need."

For the second time that afternoon her vision blurred and she willed herself not to cry at the sound of the old, familiar words from his lips.

"Stay?" she whispered shakily.

She didn't need to look up to know he was smiling.

"Is that a question?"

She shook her head. "We could watch a movie, maybe order in something to eat." She said all this to the second button from the top of his shirt, as she was now shorter than he without her boots.

She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head and she silently wondered when he had started to get so affectionate with her – and why she wasn't putting a stop to it.

"You pick the movie and I'll order the pizza."

* * *

Brandi plunged her hands into the soapy water and tried not to cry. She reminded herself that Rachel and company would be leaving on a plane tomorrow and she would have Peter all to herself again. Then they could return to life as they knew it. Peter had already promised her that they could get a Christmas tree in the next couple of days and he would help her decorate it.

A tear splashed into the dishwater and she sighed. So much for promising herself she wouldn't cry tonight.

At least her latkes had been a success – there wasn't a single one left. Even Rachel had grudgingly admitted they were "not bad – for a Gentile." Peter had rushed to her defense, saying that since he didn't even practice his faith anymore she might as well call him a Gentile too.

Things had only gone downhill from there culminating in the ultimate explosive question after the children had been dismissed from the table.

"Are you a virgin, Brandi?" Rachel sniffed.

"RACHEL!" Peter and John exclaimed, while Brandi had merely gaped at her.

"I meant, before you moved in here with my brother. Were you a virgin?" Rachel clarified, her brown eyes snapping.

Brandi flushed, but opened her mouth to answer nonetheless.

Peter reached over and covered her hand with his. "No, Hon, don't answer that. Not only is it none of my sister's business, she is being highly hypocritical in asking it!" He watched as Rachel's eyebrows rose. "Oh yes, sister dear, you may not have lived with John before you got married or slept with him but I'll not have you sit there and give the impression that you were a virgin bride!"

Brandi watched in horror as Rachel's face turned as white as the family lace tablecloth. Needing an escape, she removed her hand from Peter's and jumped up to begin clearing the table.

"Does anyone have room for dessert?" she asked shakily.

Peter couldn't help but smile at her extending the olive branch, though Rachel and John sat as if they had been turned into stone statues. Finally John met her eyes and said, "I think Rachel and I will go for a drive, if you and Peter wouldn't mind watching the children for awhile?"

That had been nearly an hour ago. Peter had gone to play the usual Hanukkah games with his nephews and nieces while she had insisted on washing up. She really just wanted the time to herself to think and perhaps have a good cry. She sighed. Peter was such a wonderful man and it still amazed her that he loved her and wanted to be with her. Their differences hadn't seemed that great until his sister had shown up. Perhaps they really were-

Her thoughts were interrupted by two arms sliding around her waist. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Mss Brandi Shannon?" Peter whispered in ear.

She sighed and relaxed back into his arms. She was wearing a soft blue silk dress, modest in style but it still hugged her curves and accentuated her assets. Peter had given it to her on the first night of Hanukkah. Rachel had sniffed and said it was a very special dress and should have been saved for the last night. Peter had laughed and said if he had done that he wouldn't have had the pleasure of seeing her wear it during Hanukkah.

"I'm glad you like the dress – my boyfriend has excellent tastes, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does – and not just in clothes." Peter pressed his cheek to hers and she felt him start when he felt the dampness. "Tears, my love?" he sighed.

She shivered at the endearment. "I – there must be a raw onion in here somewhere."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Come on, leave the rest of the dishes to soak. The children want to give you their presents."

"Shouldn't we wait?"

He shook his head. "It's getting late and they're tired of waiting."

She dried her hands on the dishcloth and Peter grabbed her hand, leading her down the hall to the sunken living room where his sister's offspring attacked her the moment they saw her.

Brandi allowed them to lead her to the place of honor – the big armchair by the roaring fire. Hannah, the youngest at four, leaped into her lap and cuddled close. Brandi looked up at Peter who was leaning against the doorway, watching the whole scene with a grin on his face.

"Are you sure we can't keep her?"

"I think John would object."

She sighed as she stroked Hannah's soft curls. _Oh well, maybe one day we'll have one of our own._ Though the thought surprised her, it didn't create a feeling of panic. Before she could analyze it further, the rest of the children were in front of her chair pressing little boxes into her hands.

"We made them-" Samuel said.

"Today! Lydia helped since she's the oldest-" Jesse continued.

"But we each made one all by ourselves!" Samuel finished.

Brandi giggled. Samuel and Jesse were six year old twin boys and always finished each other's sentences. Some people found it annoying but she thought it was adorable.

"I'm sure I'll love what you each made," she reassured the boys.

"I just hope the glue had a chance to dry and didn't get stuck to the gift paper, Aunt Brandi," Lydia said.

Brandi smiled at Rachel's oldest. Lydia had started calling her 'Aunt Brandi' five minutes after she had met her – much to the consternation of her mother.

Hannah wiggled on her lap. "Open! Open now, Miss Brandi!"

Laughing in delight, she gave Hannah a squeeze and proceeded to do just that. Once all four little packages were opened she held a Star of David, a dreidel, a Menorah, and a Torah scroll.

"Do you like them, Aunt Brandi?" Lydia whispered.

"They're for your Christmas tree-" Samuel cried.

"Uncle Peter said you're getting one-" Jesse said.

"soon. I wish we could stay and help you decorate it!"

Brandi nodded. "I do too – and yes I love them. Thank you very much." She opened her arms and the children crowded close for a hug. "I love you guys," she whispered.

It was Lydia who answered for all of them. "We love you too, Aunt Brandi."

The sound of a throat clearing broke apart the tight circle. Everyone turned to see that Rachel and John had joined Peter in the doorway. Rachel did not look pleased to see her children in such a loving moment with Brandi.

"It's time for bed," Rachel announced.

The children groaned but followed their mother from the room, little Hannah placing a kiss on Brandi's lips as she slipped from her lap. Peter sat on the arm of her chair and looked at John who was still standing in the doorway, fidgeting with his hat.

"I am sorry, brother, for the way Rachel has been acting. I should have spoken to her sooner." He looked Brandi directly in the eyes. "I am very sorry for the things she has said to upset you, Miss Shannon, and I hope that you will forgive her."

Brandi's eyes filled with tears. "I just don't understand what I did to make her hate me so much."

John looked at her with compassion. "I don't think she does. She's terrified of losing Peter – that he'll slip back to his old demon ways."

Brandi felt Peter tense beside her and she laid a comforting hand on his knee.

"That was long before I ever met Brandi – and it's over and done! She is the woman I love, John, and I'm a better man with her by my side." Peter put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

"I've got plenty of skeletons in my closet, John," Brandi said shakily, "but those are days are behind me too. I love Peter, he takes care of me and in return I make him laugh – so he isn't so serious all the time." She poked her lover in the ribs and looked up at him with a fond smile.

John looked at the couple and gave a slow nod. "I will tell Rachel what you have said. I think it will ease her heart and mind. Good night."

Brandi collapsed back into the arm chair as John's footsteps echoed in the hallway.

"Relax and put your feet up, Hon, while I get you some dessert."

"Oh Peter, I don't think I could eat another bite."

"You hardly touched your dinner tonight." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Besides, it's part of my Hanukkah present to you tonight."

"Oh no! You've given me so much already."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the sofa. Covering her legs with a blanket, he pressed another kiss to the top of her head and said, "Now don't you go anywhere – I'll be right back."

Brandi snuggled into the warmth of the afghan and lost herself in the light of the flames from the fireplace. Before she knew it, he was back, bearing a Rugalach cookie on a glass plate. He placed her feet in his lap and offered the plate to her with a little bow and a smile. She looked from him to the delicious apricot filled crescent pastry and sighed.

"I really shouldn't, Peter. Do you know how many calories I've had this week? Everything is fried! Potato pancakes, donuts, even cookies! Who made up the Hanukkah menu – children? My sister?"

Peter laughed and rubbed one of her feet under the blanket. "So don't eat it – just break it apart." His voice had taken on a husky quality and she thought she noticed a slight tremor to it as well.

She tilted her head. "It's not that type of cookie, Peter."

He stopped rubbing her foot and leveled his hazel eyes at her. "Break open the cookie, Brandi."

Now it was her fingers that were trembling slightly as she reached out and picked up the Rugalach from the plate. With one last questioning look at her boyfriend, she broke the flaky crescent and dropped her eyes down to see what surprise lay within.

"Oh Peter!" she breathed, taking in the sight of the very large diamond ring winking up at her from the apricot filling. Her eyes flew back to his. "Are you sure?"

He took the plate from her hands before she dropped it. "That's not the reaction I was expecting – of course I'm sure. How could you even ask me that?"

Tears were spilling down Brandi's cheeks. "Because of this last week – because of everything your sister has said! I'm not Jewish and I don't even go to Mass anymore. We're going to really confuse our children – are they going to be Jewish or Catholic? And I don't know that I want to be a stay at home mom – not that I've ever had a full time job, but I'm trying to get the masseuse shop going and I don't want to abandon it now. I mean, what would be the point of trying to be a housewife like your sister? I can't cook – the potato pancakes were a lucky break and Marshall helped me more than he'll ever admit. And I can't even wash clothes without the whites coming out pink!" Brandi's words came to a halt as she hiccupped.

"Hush, my love, take a deep breath," Peter whispered. His hands cupped her face and his thumbs wiped her tears away. "I don't want you to change. I don't want you to start attending mass or for you drag me to the synagogue every Shabbat. I would be miserable if you did that! You had to help me find my yarmulke before Rachel got here, remember? It was buried in a box of family stuff in the attic – so I'm not exactly the good little Jewish boy, am I?" He chuckled. "Of course I want you to follow your dream and open the masseuse shop. And we have Mrs. Schneider who comes in three times a week to do light housework and laundry, remember? So you don't have to even worry about those things."

Brandi giggled. "What about the cooking?"

"We haven't starved, have we? Your potato pancakes were delicious, Brandi. But if you're worried about your culinary skills, maybe you could take some cooking classes."

Her eyes brightened. "That might be fun!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "But do it for you, my love, not for me, or Rachel, or anyone else. I love you just the way you are – I'm sure of that. I'm also sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if he was going to let her in on a secret. "Want to know something else I'm sure of?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"I'm sure that I want to have a little Hannah of our own with you – with your dancing eyes and sense of humor."

"I knew that was what I wanted the day I moved in here with you!" Brandi breathed out softly.

"And don't think this means that I'm against the idea of a little Samuel or Jesse, because I'm not!" Peter continued hastily. "Though it would be nice to have our children one at a time because twins-"

He broke off suddenly as her words registered in his brain, his eyes flying to hers. Brandi bit her lip to keep another giggle from escaping.

"Was that a yes?"

"I don't know, Peter, was there a proposal in there somewhere?"

He cocked his head questioningly before he burst out laughing. "You're right – I never did ask you properly, did I? Let's fix that." He plucked the diamond ring from the Rugalach and shook off the sticky filling that clung to the setting. Kneeling beside the sofa, he held the ring up between them.

"Brandi Elizabeth Shannon, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?"

"I will."

Peter grinned and slipped the ring on her finger. "I'm sorry it's still sticky."

She leaned forward and captured his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his. "I don't care. Happy Hanukkah, love."

He breathed the words against her lips before capturing her mouth again, "Merry Christmas, darling."

* * *

**Aww- wasn't that sweet? This marks the halfway point in my Christmas story, and the best is still to come! Reviews are LOVE!**


	4. Chapter 4

"_I won't ask for much this Christmas  
I don't even wish for snow  
I'm just gonna keep on waiting  
Underneath the mistletoe."_

Marshall chuckled lightly at the antics of Michael J. Fox onscreen before his eyes were again drawn to Mary's sleeping face. She had drifted off halfway into the second "Back to the Future" movie. Her feet were in his lap and her head was resting on the opposite end of the couch. He sighed as he watched the light from the TV dance across her skin. He couldn't believe he had kissed her, not once but twice, or that she had let him.

True, neither of the kisses had been that of a lover – perhaps that was why Mary hadn't sent him flying across the room. That and the fact that she was probably shocked that he had taken such liberties with her in the first place. Of course, it wasn't the first time he had kissed her. He remembered racing down a hospital corridor, Mary lying pale and still on a gurney, bleeding out, and pressing a kiss to her temple before she was whisked through the emergency room doors.

He could try and justify his actions tonight. She had been hurting and he had simply been offering comfort. Marshall snorted as he ran a hand through his hair. That logic didn't work – he had comforted Mary plenty of times over the years and he had never kissed her before. It was only now that she knew the depth of his feelings for her that he realized he had nothing to lose. Perhaps it was time to slowly push the envelope and see what happened – then he would know once and for all.

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibrating of Mary's cell on the coffee table. Seeing that it was Brandi, he answered.

"Hey, Brandi, it's Marshall. Everything ok?" he whispered.

"_Marshall, why are you answering Mary's phone?"_

"I stayed over to watch movies."

"_Oh, I see. Can I talk to her? I've got exciting news!"_

Marshall smiled. "She fell asleep-" he broke off as he saw her stir. "Hang on, Brandi."

Mary blinked and looked around sleepily. "Marshall, who are you talking to?"

"Brandi's on the phone for you. She says she has exciting news," he held out the phone, his eyes meeting hers.

She took the phone, their fingertips brushing in the transfer. Keeping her eyes on his, she said, "Squish?"

He could hear Brandi's excited voice and couldn't help but smile when Mary winced and held the phone away from her ear. He watched her listen, nod, and finally say, "I'm really happy for you, Squish."

Marshall squeezed her knee in approval and stood to clear up the remains of dinner. He kept one ear on Mary's side of the conversation as he moved between the living room and kitchen, removing the pizza boxes and putting their dirty dishes in the sink. When he rejoined Mary on the couch a few minutes later, he found her staring into space, holding her cell phone limply in one hand. He reached over and took it from her, setting the phone back on the table.

"I've never heard Squish sound so happy before, string bean," Mary whispered.

Marshall's heart ached at the longing he heard in her voice as he reached over and took her hand. "A woman is supposed to sound that way when she gets engaged to the man she loves."

Mary swung her head to look at him, her eyes empty. "Did I sound like that – when I told you I was engaged to Raph?"

He sighed. "Mer-"

"Did I?" she insisted.

"That was different – I forced the information out of you, so you sounded defiant, even petulant."

She bristled. "You make me sound like a child!"

He sighed again, deeper this time, and released her hand. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Mer? I thought we had already established that you weren't in love with Raph – that's why you broke off the engagement."

"I didn't break it off – he did!"

Marshall reared back from her, shocked. "So, you still want to marry him?"

"I – no, no I don't." She stood up and began to pace. "Why are we talking about this?"

He threw up his hands. "I have no idea – I thought we were talking about Brandi and how happy she is with Peter."

"And how you thought I wasn't happy with Raph!" she stopped and pointed a finger at him.

He stood and reached for his scarf, wrapping it around his neck. "I never said that."

"Where are you going? You can't just walk out when I'm talking to you!" Mary stepped into his path, blocking his way to the door.

Marshall put his hands gently on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Mer, you're not talking, you're arguing. You're itching for a fight because you're lonely and wondering if you're ever going to find happiness like your sister has."

Fire blazed in Mary's eyes and she knocked his hands off her shoulders. "I have never needed a man to make me happy!"

She was rocked back on her heels when cobalt fire blazed at her from his eyes. "Heaven forbid you need anyone, Mary Shannon, because-" He broke off, his chest heaving, his breath hot and heavy in her face.

"Because what?" she demanded.

"Damn it, Mer! I will not travel down this road with you tonight. Get a good night's sleep and things will look better in the morning." He shrugged his coat on over his shoulders and stepped around her.

"Marshall, I-"

Mary's voice had lost most of the anger and he knew if he turned back around now, he wouldn't leave.

He might even sweep her into his arms and kiss her the way a lover would.

But neither of them was ready for that so he merely opened the front door and stepped into the crisp New Mexico night.

* * *

Mary didn't sleep well that night.

Her brain kept churning the events of the afternoon and evening for hours, wondering where she had gone so off track with Marshall. The simple fact of the matter had been when she had opened her back door and seen Marshall and Brandi sipping tea in her kitchen, the two of them all cozy, she had been jealous. She had Peter, why did she have to monopolize her partner's time as well?

Marshall had taken the afternoon off to help Squish make the potato pancakes and so Mary had had the afternoon to herself, which had left her with too much time on her hands to think about the events of the day. Peter had taken her completely by surprise when he had told her of his plans and asked for permission to marry her sister. But after the surprise and shock had worn off, there was a layer of loss that she had not expected to feel. It wasn't until she was lying in bed, in the dark alone, that she couldn't run away from her feelings and had to analyze them.

Mary had bathed, clothed, and fed her sister since she was a tiny baby - since Jinx was either out at the bars or passed out on the floor at home. And when Brandi had been old enough to go with her to school, Mary had watched over her with a fierceness of a mama bear protecting its cub. Brandi had needed plenty of looking after as she fell in with the cool kids and was easily influenced into the drug scene as she entered middle school.

Mary had tried to break free of her family by running away and marrying Mark – and then years later by moving across the country and joining WitSec. But for all her efforts and complaints about her family – she couldn't stop looking after them, helping them - especially Brandi, her baby sister, her Squish. And now Mary was supposed to hand over her sister's care to another? To a _man_? Mary snorted and punched her pillow. Brandi didn't even remember her father. Would Peter also disappoint her in the end?

Mary fell into a restless sleep around four o'clock, only to have a nightmare about the day Marshall got shot. As she fell on her knees beside him, begging him to stay with her because she needed him, he looked up at her.

"Why? You don't need anyone, Mary Shannon." He shuddered and died in her arms.

Mary woke up in her bed, gasping and shaking lightly with cold. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was now five in the morning. She knew that Marshall went running every morning at five-thirty; knowing that sleep was a lost cause, she got up and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

She let herself into his house with her key, balancing the breakfast she had brought in one hand. As she stepped into the living room and saw the decorations, she smiled. He kept them to a minimum around the office for her sake and the witnesses who weren't religious, but his house looked like a Christmas showroom. She fingered some of the ornaments on his tree, smiling at the homemade ones from his nieces and nephews. _I wonder if Brandi still has some ornaments from that Christmas she was telling Marshall about._

Her inner musings were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming, and she turned to see Marshall standing behind her, wearing a sweat suit and slowly removing the ear buds from his iPod.

"Are you adding breaking and entering to your record now?" he asked.

She snorted. "It's not breaking and entering when you have a key, Marshall."

"I gave you that key for emergencies only, Mer."

She swallowed; he sounded so serious and distant this morning. Was he still upset with her?

"I brought coffee and doughnuts," she offered.

He arched an eyebrow. "Is this an apology?"

"For what?"

"For trying to pick a fight with me last night."

She rolled her eyes. "We've had worse fights than that before, Marshall – and no, this isn't an apology. Can't one co-worker treat another co-worker to a complicated coffee beverage and a cheese Danish without you thinking I've got an ulterior motive?"

His lips quirked as he fought off a smile. _Perhaps there's hope for us yet, Mer. _He stepped closer to her, watching her eyes widen at his proximity. He noticed the circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and a bit of redness that hinted at crying. "Not when that person is you," he whispered words from long ago, wondering if she would remember, "You're not a treater, Mer. It's not a criticism, just an observation."

Mary flinched in response and Marshall had confirmation that something had definitely spooked her – something that had resulted in her making this sweet gesture and showing up at his house at sunrise.

"Marshall, are you mad at me?"

This time he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice as he said, "No – I'm just wondering what you're doing here at seven o'clock in the morning when we don't have a witness situation."

She sighed. "I didn't like the way we left things last night."

"So this _**is**_ an apology," he grinned.

She huffed. "It's not – I haven't apologized for every silly little disagreement we've had over the years and I'm not about to start now." She pulled his coffee from the carrier and held it out to him. "Now, are you going to drink this damn pumpkin spiced latte and reimburse me for the four bucks I spent on it or not?"

Marshall closed the distance between them, wrapping his fingers around hers on the cup. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against hers in a feather light kiss.

Mary felt her lips following his, wanting more as he pulled away and took a sip of his latte.

She blinked in confusion. "What was – why the hell did you do that?"

He smirked and pointed up. "We're standing under the mistletoe. Merry Christmas."

She glanced up, and seeing a sprig of the plant hanging from the ceiling, she smacked him on the shoulder and stomped into the kitchen.

"Apology accepted," Marshall whispered, taking another sip of latte, hoping the taste would quench his thirst for more of Mary's kisses.

* * *

Mary returned from making the rounds of visiting her witnesses to see Charlie hunched over Marshall's desk, whispering to her partner, who was clutching something in his hand. She crept up behind the freshman inspector and listened.

"I can't believe you invaded his privacy like that, Charlie! You have to put it back before he realizes it's gone," Marshall whispered.

"But I had to get some idea of what to get the chief for his secret Santa present – I really want to cheer him up. So I just thought I'd look around while he was at his lunch meeting. I never thought I'd find-"

Mary still couldn't see what was in Marshall's hand and so she decided it was time to find out what had the boys so excited.

"What are you two girls whispering about?" she asked from behind Charlie.

Both men jumped and the object in Marshall's hand went flying. It fell to the floor with a soft clink and slid under Marshall's desk. To her amusement, both men dove underneath the piece of furniture to look for it.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Mary asked, and tried to hold her surprise in check as she picked up the diamond and ruby engagement ring from the other side of Marshall's desk. "I always knew you would ask him one day, Charlie, but I don't think you're Marshall's type."

Charlie flushed a deep red as Marshall gave one of his short, dry laughs. "Funny, Mer, but Charlie found the ring in Stan's desk."

Mary's astonished gaze flew from the beautiful ring in her fingertips to her partner's smug expression. "Oh no, Gidget. This does not prove you were right in your conspiracy theories."

Marshall crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Read the inscription, Mer."

Charlie darted to Mary's side. "There's an inscription?"

She held the ring towards the light and read aloud: "E: all my love, S 12-25-09." Closing her fingers around the ring, she felt her heart clench. Whirling on Charlie, she dropped the ring in his hand and shoved him towards Stan's office. "Put it back – now!"

Charlie staggered backwards from the emotion in her voice as much as from the physical push. "But what do I-"

"Put it back exactly where you found it – NOW!" she ordered.

Charlie bobbed his head nervously and ran into the chief's office, shutting the door behind him. Mary collapsed into the chair on the other side of Marshall's desk.

"Oh my God, Stan has an engagement ring in his desk – with last year's date and the initial 'E'," she breathed. She looked up at Marshall. He had lost the smug look of satisfaction of being proven right; he was looking at her soberly, his heart in his eyes. "How can we help him?"

"I think if he had wanted us to know, if he wanted our help - he would have told us," Marshall said sadly, shrugging.

"It certainly explains his mood the past few weeks – actually ever since she left."

Marshall nodded. "I knew they had a relationship but I never thought they were _that _serious."

"Stan and _Eleanor_?" Mary said, her voice holding plenty of disbelief.

"Why is it so hard for you to see them as a couple? I think they would be great together."

She shuddered. "Please, Marshall. I don't want those images in my head."

He chuckled and shook his head. "There you go again, taking it to a dirty place."

Charlie joined them again, slightly out of breath and pale. "I made double sure that it is exactly where I found it. He'll never know it was moved."

"He better not, kid, or your ass is so fired," Mary said.

Marshall glared at her before swinging his gaze back to Charlie, who looked even paler. "Don't mind her, Charlie. She just likes to have someone else in trouble – it takes the heat off her."

"Hey!" She kicked him under the desk, but he dodged the attempt with a laugh. She went off to fill her coffee mug and Charlie sat down in the chair.

"Um, listen. You wouldn't happen to have her email, would you?" the young inspector fidgeted nervously.

Marshall was already back to work and he was only half listening to Charlie as he typed. "Whose email?

"This Eleanor that the boss is still in love with."

Marshall's fingers stilled over the keys and his eyes swung back to Charlie's eager beaver face. "Leave it alone, Charlie."

"But what could it hurt if I just emailed her and told her that I found the ring and that the Chief's still in love with her? I could ask her to come back and surprise him for Christmas – think what a great secret Santa gift that would be!" Charlie's eyes were shining like a five-year-old boy's.

"What could it hurt?" Marshall mockingly repeated. "Charlie, the man is heartbroken. He's holding onto that ring and his memories of love lost – let's not make it worse for him, ok?"

"But what if we could reunite them? It's Christmas – don't you believe in miracles?"

Marshall bit his tongue on the sarcastic answer that rose to his lips and his eyes were caught by Mary as she crossed the floor with her steaming mug of coffee. For the first time, he noticed that she had worn a red sweater with a matching red hair band; it was as festive as Mary Shannon got during the holidays. She gave him one of her rare dazzling smiles before groaning and opening a file on her desk.

"Marshall?"

His eyes snapped back to his computer monitor and he said, "I'll send you Eleanor's email, Charlie, but leave me out of it, ok?"

"You're the best! I knew I could count on you."

He groaned and muttered under his breath, "But I'm not going down with your ship if it goes up in flames, mate."

* * *

It was really late when Eleanor unlocked her door, fumbled for the light switch, and stumbled into her one bedroom apartment. Light flooded the space and she blinked, looking around wearily as her cat Tiger meowed and came to greet her.

Peeling off gloves, hat, scarf, and coat, Eleanor placed her keys in the bowl on the table by the door and proceeded down the hall to her kitchen. The stew that she had placed in the crock pot early this morning smelled wonderful and she couldn't wait to sit down and dig in. She cut herself a couple thick slices of bread as Tiger purred and rubbed against her ankles, not bothered in the slightest that she still had her snow boots on.

Eleanor sighed. She really hated this time of the year because of all the extra work it created. Everyone in her department was trying to clear their desks of the year's paperwork before leaving the city for the holidays and as a result, more work got dumped in her lap. The job title had sounded so glamorous when she had accepted it nearly a year ago; the added job benefits combined with getting some distance from Albuquerque were too much for her to resist.

Now she longed for New Mexico with every breath she took. She never thought another place could become home, let alone in such a short period of time. But life under the New Mexican sun had been just what she needed to heal from the loss of her beloved husband. She had found a new sparring partner in Mary Shannon – and a friend in Marshall Mann. Both of them were so in love with each other; Eleanor couldn't understand why they weren't together yet. But then life has a funny way of working out sometimes.

As she soaked up the remainder of the stew in her bowl with the last piece of bread, she thought about Stan. If she was honest with herself, he was the one she longed for. It had been silly of her to take Stan's OSU sweatshirt with her when she left – but she had and she wondered if he noticed its loss. She wondered if a year later he noticed her loss. She wondered what he would think if he knew that she slept in that sweatshirt every night, dreaming that it was his arms around her.

_Why am I still here? Why don't I go back? I told him I needed time – not that I wanted to end what we had. But I guess that's what he heard since he's with Allison Pierce now._

Eleanor's lip curled as she put her dishes in the sink. The very idea of her Stanley with anyone else made her blood boil and her heart ache. But as the months had passed, their emails had grown less frequent until she wasn't keeping in contact with him at all – and from his point of view he probably thought he was a free man. With these conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling around in her head and heart, Eleanor sat down at her computer to check her email before bed. Tiger jumped in her lap and she absentmindedly began to pet him. She cocked her head in puzzlement at an email from the Albuquerque office – but it wasn't from Stan, Marshall, or Mary. _Charlie? Isn't that the new inspector Marshall told me about? _Curious, she clicked on the email to open the message.

_To: Eleanor Prince_

_From: Charlie Connor_

_Hi, you left Albuquerque before we had a chance to meet but my name is Charlie and I'm the new inspector here in the Albuquerque office. I'm afraid this is rather a personal email and I would understand totally if you threw it away and didn't read it – but I hope you don't because it's about the Chief, I mean, Stan._

Eleanor's heart began to beat a little bit faster. Had something happened to Stan? Surely Marshall or Mary would have called her if it was life threatening. She shook her head as her vision blurred. Why would they? No one knew the true nature or depth of their relationship. She took a deep breath and continued.

_You see, I drew his name for secret Santa this year._

Eleanor closed her eyes and smiled in relief. Did the kid need gift advice? Was that all? It was a bit strange for him to ask her but she had been the office assistant – perhaps Marshall had said she might know best what Stan would like.

_I wanted to get him something really cool, to cheer him up. You see, he's been really down this holiday season. Mary and Marshall say they've never seen him this depressed at Christmastime. So I decided to search around his office when he went to lunch and get some inspiration._

_I found the ring._

Eleanor felt like she couldn't breathe. The last four words leapt out at her from the screen and she couldn't stop staring at them. He still had the ring? He was depressed?

He still had her ring?

Tiger hissed and she looked down to see tears hitting his fur. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, not knowing if she was apologizing to her cat for the rainstorm or to Stan. If he still had the ring, if he was moody this time of year, perhaps he wasn't with Allison.

_I'm so sorry to have invaded Stan's privacy, and yours. I put it back exactly where I found it. But the Chief is miserable and I got to thinking it would be a great Christmas present from his secret Santa if you could come for a visit? Our party is Friday, December 17__th__ at the Andaluz Hotel. He would love to see you – and I would like to meet the lady who captured the chief's heart. _

_I haven't told anyone I work with that I'm emailing you – well, Marshall gave me your address but he told me to leave him out of it. It will be our secret if you're coming or not – but I hope you do. _

_Charlie_

The tears continued to drip down Eleanor's face and Tiger finally abandoned her lap. She wanted to hit the reply button and tell this kid "thanks, but no thanks." She wanted to hit the reply button and say, "I'll be on the next plane."

The only thing that kept her from doing either was the one question that had kept her from contacting Stan for months: 'I thought you'd moved on – what about Allison?'

And the only person who could answer _that_ question was Stan.

* * *

**Will Eleanor come home for Christmas? Will Marshall kiss Mary without using mistletoe as an excuse? Reviews are LOVE.**


	5. Chapter 5

***Doesn't Charlie make a cute elf? He kinda reminds me of the elf in cartoon classic of Rudolph who wanted to be a dentist . . . what was his name? Anyway, there's just one more chapter after this one. At the end of the chapter there's some sign language dialogue that takes place in [ ] - Marshall's been brushing up since the pilot episode, LOL.

* * *

**

"_Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas  
This is all I'm asking for  
I just want to see my baby  
Standing right outside my door."_

A week passed and before the marshals knew it, it was the day of the party at the Andaluz. Mary kept sneaking little glances at Marshall throughout the day, wondering what was up with him. He jumped guiltily every time his phone rang, turning away from her to muffle his end of the conversation. He was glued to his computer but every time she walked by, he pressed a key to clear whatever it was he had been looking at or working on. She arched her eyebrows in a silent question but he would only say:

"It's Christmas, Mer."

She huffed in annoyance and returned to her desk and her surveillance. Their seven year partner anniversary had come and gone on Wednesday without even so much as a card – that was very unlike Marshall, Mary mused silently.

Across the room Marshall was trying not to grit his teeth every time he felt Mary's eyes on him. It had been a week since he'd kissed her in his kitchen and used the mistletoe as an excuse. Every time he felt her eyes on him, he just wanted to throw down his pen, cross the room and – he shut his eyes against the images that flooded his brain. He couldn't think about that – not now, and not here.

It had also been a week since he had called his contacts in Jersey and sent them looking for Nana's box. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration; his childhood friend Sam, who happened to be a private detective, had found out that the box had been purchased by a Mrs. Olivia Stevens. Sam had called with the report on Tuesday – and Marshall hadn't heard anything else since. Marshall stared into space and twirled the pen on his fingers as he thought. Olivia Stevens – she didn't even have the right initials, so the box couldn't have been for herself. She must have bought it for someone else and that must be what was taking so long to find out. He groaned as he felt Mary's eyes on him again. He had told Brandi from the beginning that this was going to be a long shot – he just had had no idea at the time that his desire to find Nana's box for Mary would become as great as hers.

The outer office door buzzed and Charlie bustled into the room, dropping a parcel on Marshall's desk.

"This was waiting for you downstairs, so I thought I'd bring it up with me," the freshman inspector grinned in explanation.

Marshall nodded. "Thanks, Charlie." He glanced at the return address and smiled. _Well, here's one package I was waiting for. I bet she thinks I forgot this year._

He slowly opened the parcel, feeling Mary's curiosity peaking with the crinkling of the brown paper. Chuckling, he glanced at her and said, "Haven't you ever heard the expression 'curiosity killed the cat'?"

She stuck her tongue out but then smirked as she said, "Yes, but 'satisfaction brought it back'."

Grinning, he shook a small box into his palm. "Touché."

She stood up and came around her desk, craning her neck to see what was in his palm. "What is that?"

He shook a finger at her as he slipped the item into his pocket. "Don't you like surprises, Mer?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "How long have we been partners? You know I hate surprises."

"But, Mer, it's Christmas!"

She let out a strangled scream. "So help me, string bean, if you keep saying that, I'm going to –"

Her threat was cut off by a roar from Stan's office. Their chief had shot to his feet and was yelling into the telephone, his face flushed and angry. Charlie's mouth fell open in surprise, and Mary reached for her coat.

"Is it too early to call it a day?" she asked her partner, who snickered.

Stan slammed the phone down and stared out onto the floor but none of the inspectors thought he was seeing them at that moment. After a few seconds, he sat down heavily at his desk and placed his head in his hands.

"Well, one of us should go check on him," Charlie said nervously.

"Good thinking, kid. Let us know how it goes," Mary said, as she sat down again and opened another file.

"Mary!" Marshall hissed. "He went last time – shouldn't one of us go?"

She glared at him. "Fine – you go."

He rolled his eyes but headed for Stan's office. "I have a better idea."

She looked up. "You do?"

He nodded. "Look who's here."

Charlie was just opening the outer office door for someone. "Good afternoon. May I assume I have the pleasure of addressing-"

"Eleanor!" Mary cried, her mouth falling open in shock.

Eleanor turned, her eyes coming to rest on her former sparring partner. "Hello, Mary. How have you been? I'm glad to see you've fully recovered from your injury."

Mary could only stand dumbfounded at the former office assistant turned FBI consultant. Marshall leaned over and gently closed her mouth. He crossed the room and kissed Eleanor's cheek.

"Eleanor, it's wonderful to see you! You look fabulous."

Eleanor smiled at him. "Thank you. It's great to be back." She looked him up and down. "You're looking awfully thin, Marshall. Isn't Mary taking care of you?" She turned her laser eyes back on Mary as he replied.

"It's been a difficult year, Eleanor."

"It has indeed – for all of us." She glanced towards Stan's office, where the chief was still sitting with his head buried in his hands. She drew a deep breath. "Wish me luck. Oh, and Mary? Don't even think of pushing that speaker button." Her boot heels clicked a familiar rhythm as she walked away.

Marshall laughed as Mary muttered, "How does she do that?"

"Come on, I'll show you how to be sneaky," he said as he took the file folder from her and held it up in front of their faces.

"I can't see anything!"

"Wait a minute." He slowly lowered the file until just their eyes peeked over the top.

"Can I join you?" Charlie asked eagerly.

Mary elbowed him in the stomach. "Get your own, kid. There's not room for three."

Mary and Marshall giggled like school kids as Charlie scrambled for his own file.

Inside the office, Stan was lost in his thoughts. He couldn't believe that the costume shop had rented out his Santa suit. Of course they claimed he had already picked it up earlier that day but they were just covering their asses. Now he didn't know how he would get himself psyched up for the party tonight.

He was so lost in his memories of last year's party with Eleanor as his Mrs. Claus that he didn't hear the knock on his door at first. He jumped as the knocking finally penetrated his senses.

"Come in," he barked.

"Hey, Chief. You ready to play Santa tonight at the party?" Eleanor asked.

He sighed and lifted his face from his hands. "I don't know how that's going to happen since the costume shop rented out my suit."

Eleanor stepped into the office, letting the door close behind her. "What are you talking about? I picked up your suit this morning, just like last year."

"You mean-" Stan rose to his feet as the shadows fell from his eyes and he realized it was Christmas 2010, not Christmas 2009. He rounded his desk, stopping a few feet from her. "Eleanor, what are you doing here?"

"I heard you were looking for a Mrs. Claus."

"So after nearly a year of not seeing each other, and seven months of no contact at all, here you are?" he asked incredulously. "Why don't I believe that?"

"I missed you. I missed us."

Her words added salt to his wounds. "I've missed you this whole year, Ellie! But I wasn't the one who walked away."

"I asked for time, Stan – I didn't want to end what we had! I loved you – I still love you." Tears were coursing down her cheeks.

"Then why-?"

"Then why didn't I come back sooner? Why did I break off contact with you?"

He nodded.

"I thought you had moved on. I thought you were in a relationship with Allison Pierce."

For a long moment, Stan just stared at her. Then he began to laugh, softly at first but soon the sound filled the room until he was clutching his sides.

"Stan, this isn't funny." Eleanor was tapping one foot in annoyance and the tears were drying on her face, forgotten for the moment.

The laughter died on his lips and he studied the woman before him. She was still as beautiful as ever – though a bit thinner and he could see that she hadn't been taking care of herself. Well, that was something he could fix. He stepped into her personal space and she looked at him warily.

"There was nothing personal between me and Allison Pierce," he said softly.

"Really?" she said, her voice full of hope and longing.

"Really."

She sagged against him then, her hands coming up to rest against his chest while his cupped her face.

"I dressed up to impress her – and to try and move on because I didn't think you were coming back. The one and only dinner we had I talked about you the entire time. She claimed she had a headache before dessert even came and took a taxi back to her hotel from the restaurant."

Eleanor giggled. "My poor Stanley. She'll never know what she missed out on – what you've got hiding under that shirt of yours."

His heart soared with her words. "Why are you here, Ellie?" he repeated hoarsely.

"I told you, I heard you might be looking for a Mrs. Claus?"

"For the party tonight?" He searched her eyes questioningly.

"Yes," she said shakily. "And for the rest of our lives, if your offer is still open."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Stan's lips covered hers and she moaned in delight, running her hands up and twining them around his neck.

From outside the office, Mary, Marshall, and Charlie watched as Stan retrieved the diamond and ruby ring from his desk and slipped it on Eleanor's finger. Charlie jumped up and down in glee as the couple shared another passionate kiss.

"I knew it! I told you it would work!" Charlie cried as he went back to work.

Mary looked at Marshall behind the file folder. "What is it about this holiday? Does it cause temporary insanity or something?"

Due to their close proximity, Marshall could feel the warmth of Mary's breath against his lips whenever she spoke and it was driving him crazy. Unable to control himself any longer and since they were shielded by the manila folder, he closed the inches between them and gave her lips a quick peck.

"Or something," he agreed, taking the file from her fingertips and walking unsteadily away.

* * *

Marshall was shutting down his computer when his desk phone rang. Looking around for Mary, he snatched it up.

"This is Marshall."

"_Hey, man. Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you."_

"No, that's all right, I know that these things can't be rushed. Tell me you've got good news."

"_The best – I've found MMS – and she has your girl's box."

* * *

_

Mary was just leaving for the night when picked up her jacket, revealing a card and small jewelry box underneath. Smiling, she sat back down and opened the card, resisting the overwhelming urge to open the box first. She read the cheesy greeting and then Marshall's simple message inside: _"You thought I forgot this year, didn't you? Blame the mail service for the tardiness of your gift. Happy seventh anniversary, Mer. Year seven is copper."_

The curiosity was killing her now. With trembling fingers, Mary snapped the lid back and stared at the oval copper pendant engraved with the initials 'MMS'. She was only dimly aware of her partner's footsteps as he approached her desk and crouched beside her chair.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "But I think you should get your money back on the engraving – they messed up my initials."

"They aren't supposed to be yours, Mer." He lifted the pendant by its black cord out of the box and put it around her neck. "Ever since you told me about your Christmas with Nana, I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I know how much she meant to you – how much her box meant to you. I wanted to give you something with her initials on it so you would still have a piece of her with you."

Mary leaned forward, the pendant swinging in the air between them. She searched his eyes for a moment before pressing her lips to his. When she pulled away a few moments later, her face felt warm and she noticed that Marshall looked stunned.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

The spell was broken as Stan emerged from his office to bellow, "You're still here, inspectors? Better get a move on if you're going to get home, change, and be at the Andaluz on time!" He rocked back and forth on his heels.

"We were just leaving, Stan," Marshall reassured him, as he helped Mary on with her coat.

"See you both there!" Stan turned back to his office, humming 'Jingle Bells' as he went.

"What a difference a day makes!" Mary shook her head at Stan's turn around in mood.

"What a difference a _woman_ makes," Marshall corrected her, nodding towards Stan's office. On the other side of the glass, Eleanor was typing away on Stan's computer as their boss looked over her shoulder; he pointed to something on the screen, whispered in her ear and she slapped his shoulder, laughing.

"Can we go before I throw up?" Mary whined. "Not that they're going to be better behaved at the dinner. How long do you think we need to stay at this shindig before we can beat a strategic retreat?"

Marshall pushed the elevator button and shook his head. "Watch for my signal and we'll sneak out the back, ok?"

"Okay, just don't wait too long. Remember last year after the gifts were exchanged the payroll girls started a sing-a-long of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' and I swear if I'd had my gun-"

"I know, you'd have shot someone. I promise, we'll be out of there long before any singing, all right?"

"Good." Mary played with the pendant around her neck and leaned against Marshall's shoulder as they rode down to the lobby. "So what are you doing this weekend?"

Marshall swallowed nervously. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking if your shopping was done, you could help me decorate a little bit, but nothing like your house, string bean. I don't want my house looking like the Sears and Roebuck catalog! Then we could have a movie marathon or something."

"I wish I could, Mer, but I have to make a quick trip out of town this weekend."

She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "Oh? Why?"

He couldn't resist. "It's Christmas, Mer."

"Marshall-" she growled.

He pecked her lips just before the doors opened and wondered when the hell he had gotten up the nerve to kiss her on a regular basis.

"No questions, Mer. You liked this surprise," he fingered the pendant hanging around her neck. "so trust me when I say that you'll like this one too. You do trust me, don't you?"

Her fingers brushed his on the pendant. "With my life," she said softly.

* * *

As soon as Peter's private plane reached a cruising altitude, the fasten seat belt sign went off and Brandi unbuckled hers.

"So, tell me about Marie Michelle Schwinn," she begged.

Marshall turned from the window to look at Brandi. "Again? We've already gone over this, Brandi."

"I know, I know. I'm just so excited we could find Nana's box after all this time. But what if this Marie doesn't have it? Or what if she does and won't give it back? Or what if-"

"Brandi, honey, take a deep breath and try to relax," Peter encouraged as he reached over and squeezed her hand.

She gave her fiancé a shaky smile and leaned back in her seat, trying to follow his instructions.

"Marshall, since Brandi was so excited she wasn't able to give me a very clear account, perhaps you could just hit the highlights again?" Peter suggested.

Marshall smiled and shrugged, knowing it was time to admit defeat.

"Marie Michelle Schwinn is about ten years older than Mary. She's been in Europe for several years, working as a nanny – which is where she was when her sister, Olivia, bought Nana's box for Marie's birthday."

"So, Marie's still in Europe?" Peter asked.

"No, she quit her job as a nanny after the accident that took her hearing."

Brandi gasped. "Marshall, you didn't tell me this part!"

The lean marshal squirmed. "I didn't want to upset you."

"Tell me now."

"She was on vacation with her boss' family in Israel. There was a bomb on their bus." He paused and met Peter's eyes. Understanding flew between the two men. He noticed that Peter gripped Brandi's hand tighter but neither of them said anything. "Marie sustained a serious concussion and permanently lost her hearing as a result of the blast."

Brandi sniffed. "What happened to the family she was working for – the children?"

"Marie threw herself in front of them – they're fine. Father also survived."

Brandi didn't ask about the mother; the answer was there in Marshall's eyes. She closed her own and snuggled up to Peter, wanting to block out the terrible images for awhile.

"That was five years ago," Marshall was continuing softly. "Marie came back to the States and moved in with her sister Olivia during her long rehab. She now works as a teacher's aide at a school for the deaf in San Francisco."

Peter decided to remain with the plane while Marshall and Brandi took a taxi to Marie's house. Sam was waiting for them outside. After greeting his friend and meeting Brandi, Sam briefed them on the lay of the land.

"Olivia's like a mama bear protecting its cub – you have much experience with that, man?" Sam asked.

Marshall grinned and glanced at Brandi out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, a bit," he drawled, but didn't elaborate.

"Well, she insists that her sister is still fragile and recovering even though Marie's accident was five years ago and the woman looks fit as a fiddle to me. I gave them a brief background of what happened – Olivia is incensed, but Marie is sympathetic. This is Marie's house but of course Olivia is here waiting for you two, so good luck."

Marshall cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "You don't want to come in?"

"Oh, no thanks, buddy boy. My job is done – just mail me my check." He tipped his hat and crept down the street, sticking to the shadows.

"What an odd person," Brandi mumbled.

"Sam has always read too many detective novels – he fancies himself as Sam Spade." Marshall turned toward the house and saw a curtain twitch as it fell back into place. He sighed and grabbed Brandi's elbow. "Come on, let's get this over with."

He rang the doorbell and instead of a chime, he saw the indoor lights blink. _Because Marie couldn't hear a doorbell. _

The door was yanked open and a thin, pale, pinched looking woman stood in the doorway. "Mrs. Olivia Stevens?" he asked.

"Yes," she stated, her eyes raking them both up and down.

"Hi, my name is Marshall Mann. I believe my friend Sam told you I'd be stopping by today?"

Olivia sniffed. "Oh yes, your 'friend' said someone would be coming by to spin us some yarn about my sister's antique box being stolen property."

"Olivia? Who is it?" Another woman appeared behind Olivia. She had some scarring on the left side of her face, but even so it was a softer, kinder one than her sister's.

_[They have come about the box] _Olivia signed to her sister.

_[Let them in] _Marie signed back.

_[No, I don't trust them.]_

Marie rolled her eyes. [_You don't know them. What are their names?]_

Brandi had watched the sisters' sign language with awe but confusion. Marshall had followed their conversation, looking for an opening. When Marie asked what their names were, he waved his hand in greeting and when their eyes fell on him, he signed, [_Hi M-A-R-I-E my name is M-A-R-S-H-A-L-L.]_

Marie laughed in delight while her sister made a disgusted noise in her throat.

Brandi tittered nervously. "Marshall, how am I going to talk to Marie?"

Before he could ask Marie this question, Marie answered, "Oh don't worry, I can read lips just fine, Miss?"

"Brandi."

Marie nodded. "Why don't you make some tea while I take our guests into the family room?" She didn't wait for Olivia's answer as she looped her arm through Brandi's and led her down the hall, leaving Marshall to follow.

By the time Olivia came in with the tea tray, Brandi had poured out the story of Mary's Christmas with Nana.

"So you see, Marie, our Nana gave my sister, Mary, that box as a Christmas present that year. It belonged to our great-great-grandmother, Mary Margaret Shannon, and my sister and I are named after her."

Olivia set a tea cup for Brandi down in front of her with a thud. "Your name isn't Mary or Margaret."

Brandi flushed. "I was christened 'Margaret' and when I was a teenager, I changed my name. Silly, huh?" she looked at Marie.

Marie had clapped a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to smother the giggles that were escaping. "I changed my name too! My name was Constance – isn't that awful?"

Marie and Brandi giggled together like schoolgirls while Olivia continued to bang the tea items. Marshall looked on in amusement from his chair by the fireplace.

Once their giggles had died down, Olivia launched another grenade. "Do you have any proof that my sister's box is really yours? I mean, there must be lots of boxes that look like your Nana's."

Marie looked at Brandi with wide eyes. "Do you have any proof to offer me?"

"I do! My sister Mary carved our initials inside the box so we would always know the box was ours, in case it got lost or stolen. In the back right corner of Nana's box are the initials 'MES' with a little number two by the S."

Marie looked at Brandi for a long moment before she got up and crossed the room, lifting the lid of a roll top desk. Brandi cried out when she saw Nana's box resting serenely inside. Unable to wait, she crossed the room and stood by Marie's side as the older woman took the box out of the desk.

Marie sighed as she turned towards Brandi. "I always wondered about those initials inside the box. I could tell they had been made recently and by a child's hand. Did you know I had been a nanny before my accident?"

Brandi nodded, the tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Many of my children marked their most prized possessions with their initials, just like your sister did. I think I have something that belongs to her – and you." Marie opened the lid and Brandi's eyes fell on the initials: MES -2. With a sob, Brandi threw her arms around Marie's neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried. "Thank you for keeping it safe for us all these years."

"What is she saying?" Marie asked Marshall, who had come close when the box had come out into the open.

Not trusting his voice he signed Brandi's words of gratitude and Marie smiled, hugging Brandi back. Hearing a sniffle behind him, he turned to see Olivia wiping tears with a handkerchief.

"What? I'm not heartless, you know. I just didn't want my sister to be swindled by a pair of shysters!"

He chuckled and turned back to Brandi. "Brandi, why don't you sit down and drink some tea, visit for a bit before we head back to the airport?"

She nodded, sniffling as she headed back to the couch, the box cradled in her arms.

He jumped when he felt Marie touch his sleeve.

_[You are crying] _she signed.

Marshall reached up and felt his face, feeling the moisture for the first time. He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

_[You love her.]_

_[Who? B-R-A-N-D-I?] _he signed in astonishment.

Marie shook her head. [_No, her sister. M-A-R-Y?]_

_[Why do you say that?]_

_[You worked hard to find her box.]_

Marshall shrugged again, not knowing what to say. He'd only known this woman for an hour and here she was grilling him on his love life.

_[You love her] _Marie signed again.

_[Yes] _he admitted.

The older woman smiled. [_Don't lose her.]

* * *

_

**YAY, Eleanor came home to Stan for Christmas. And Marshall got Nana's box back. How will Mary show her appreciation? Final chapter up tomorrow! Reviews are LOVE.**_  
_


	6. Chapter 6

***Grab some peppermint pie (or some Christmas cookies) and some eggnog. It's the end - enjoy!

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**

To distract herself from what else Marshall was planning for Christmas, Mary bought a tree on Saturday for her house. The people at the tree lot were perky and persistent – they wanted to help her find just the right tree to make her holidays "merry and bright". After she snarled and snapped at them enough times, the staff finally left her alone to attend to the families with happy children or the couples who were celebrating their first Christmas together, and Mary's holiday suddenly _**was**_ much merrier. She perused the lot at her own pace, clutching her small cup of hot cocoa, fighting off the melancholy feeling that persisted from the absence of having Marshall by her side. What was happening between them anyway? Not only had he kissed her this past week but yesterday _she_ had kissed _him_! And she found herself wanting more – was that just because she was lonely, because she hadn't had sex in over six months?

Or could it possibly mean that she wanted more with Marshall?

At the back of the lot, she found her tree. It wasn't quite as scraggly as the one in the Charlie Brown special but if it lasted this final week until Christmas, it would be a miracle. The small three foot tree was already dropping its needles and Mary saw that it was next to the wood chipper, ready to meet its fate. Just then, a red nosed staff person came around the corner and Mary got his attention.

She waved at the little tree. "I'll take that one."

The youth looked at her in astonishment. "Oh no, ma'am, not that one! It's ready for the chipper! We have plenty of nice tress here to choose from."

"I want that one." Mary pronounced each word clearly and slowly as if speaking to someone who didn't quite understand English.

"I'll have to get my manager, ma'am."

"You do that – I'll wait right here."

When the youth returned with his equally young manager, she smiled sweetly and repeated her request. The manager had already tried to be helpful to Mary and knew that this lady wasn't going to be talked out of her decision.

"I'll just ring up this tree for you right now. Jack, you carry it to her car."

Mary smiled in satisfaction. Maybe there was something to this magic of the season.

* * *

She spent the rest of the day decorating her little tree and Saturday night she made popcorn and watched Speed 1 & 2. She laughed at the special effects but again was missing her partner. It just wasn't the same when he wasn't there to share her laughter. She went to bed thinking heavy thoughts.

Sunday morning she was pulled from sleep by the persistent ringing of her cell phone.

"This is Mary," she mumbled into it.

"_Good morning, sunshine. Did you miss me?"_

"Marshall! Are you back in town?" Mary shoved some hair out of her face and sat up in bed, leaning against the wall.

"_I got in really late or really early, depending on how you look at it. So what did you do yesterday?"_

"I got a Christmas tree."

_His laughter came over the phone. "You really did it? This I'm going to have to see to believe, Mary Shannon."_

"Well, give me about an hour to make myself presentable and come on over, if you don't have any plans for the day."

"_Actually, Brandi and I were hoping you were free for brunch. My treat this time."_

Mary felt her heartbeat quicken at the phrase 'Brandi and I'. Had he been with her sister yesterday? Ridiculous! Squish was engaged to Peter. And what did it matter to her who Marshall spent his time with anyway? She was his partner, his best friend, not his lover.

"Oh? What's up?" she asked.

"_Okay, you dragged it out of me – we've got a surprise for you."_

Mary felt like she couldn't breathe. They had a surprise for her? Marshall and Brandi? Yes, they had been spending extra time together but he had seemed so happy about her sister's engagement to Peter. What if they had spent the day together yesterday? What if their surprise was – she couldn't even finish that last thought. She had no claim to Marshall. He was free to do as he pleased. But with her own sister? Why did that hurt so much?

Was it because he had kissed her? Was it because she had kissed him? Was it because she wanted more of his kisses?

Was it because she wanted a claim to Marshall?

"_Mary? Are you there?"_

She gulped in a mouthful of air. "I'm afraid I can't today – something's come up. I'll have to call you later. Bye."

Mary hung up the phone and buried her face in the pillows.

* * *

Marshall tore around a corner, two wheels coming off the ground at the speed in which he took it. His hands clenched on the steering wheel and he tried to control his breathing. He tried to tell himself that he was imagining things – that Mary wasn't thinking what he thought she was thinking.

When she had practically hung up on him, he had stared at his phone in disbelief. He had looked at Brandi, who had just arrived at his front door and said, "I just had the weirdest conversation with your sister."

"Tell me."

So Marshall had repeated word for word their conversation and by the end, Brandi was biting her lip and trying not laugh.

"Men!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "She thinks you and I are having an affair!"

"WHAT!" he croaked. "No, no I'm sure she doesn't."

"Ok, let's go over it again and I'll give a woman's point of view this time."

So Brandi had walked him back through it and by the end Marshall was staring at her in shock. "But that's ridiculous! That's not what I meant – and Mary's not a – I mean-"

"Are you trying to say Mary's not a woman?"

He blushed.

Brandi smiled triumphantly. "Now that we have that established, there's only one thing to do. You need to take Nana's box and explain to my thick headed sister what's been going on."

He shook his head. "That's your present to Mary – I'll not horn in on it."

"She can thank me later – and besides, without you the box never would have been found. So really it's from both of us. So get going, Romeo."

Now, as he parked in Mary's driveway he still couldn't understand why Mary would jump to conclusions about him and Brandi and be so upset by them. True, she wouldn't like him dating her sister but that didn't explain the hurt he had heard in her voice. He paused before knocking on the door.

Was it possible she felt something for him? Something more than friendship? Something that had been awakened by their shared kisses? Hope bubbled in his heart, but he quickly squashed it as Mary opened the door, an unreadable look on her face.

"What are you doing just standing out there?"

"I was trying to decide whether to knock or use my key."

She rolled her eyes and walked back into the house, leaving the door open. He followed and shut it behind him.

"What are you doing here, Marshall?"

"I've come to see why you turned down the best pancakes in town."

She shrugged. "Not hungry."

He snorted. "You must be sick then." He noticed her plate of burnt bacon and charcoal toast and smiled. "I would be too if I ate that."

"I like my food well done," she said defiantly.

Marshall sat on the couch. "I came to give you this," he said, holding out a brightly wrapped package.

She looked at him in confusion. "You already gave me my present."

"It's from Brandi – and me," he added.

She bristled. "Both of you?"

_So she was right. _"It's a present from your sister and your best friend. Open it."

Mary's whispered. "So you're not-"

"Your sister is engaged to Peter and I think you know with whom my heart lies," Marshall whispered. "Open the package, Mer."

She joined him on the couch, taking the present in shaking hands. He watched as she removed the paper from the outer box, waiting for the treasure that lay within to be revealed. When Mary lifted the simple cardboard box lid she drew her hands back as if a snake was inside.

"No, no! How could you do this?" she cried, shoving the box into his hands and running from the room. He heard her bedroom door slam followed by the sound of quiet sobbing.

Marshall was thunderstruck. True, he hadn't been sure what Mary's reaction was going to be but he hadn't expected her to not to even fully unwrap the present. It was like her brain was protecting her heart by refusing to even admit the possibility that this was the real McCoy. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten. Since making breakfast would give him something to do while he waited, he moved into her kitchen, taking the box with him.

Mary emerged from her bedroom half an hour later, fully expecting Marshall to be gone. Instead she found him at the island in her kitchen, eating a stack of pancakes, sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper.

"You're still here," she stated dully.

He lowered the paper until their eyes met. "I didn't have anywhere to be today – and you didn't finish opening your Christmas present." He gestured towards the box on the island.

She cringed when her eyes fell on it. "That is not Nana's box."

"Yes, it is."

"Nana's box is gone, Marshall! Do you know that I went to the shop every day for a month, saving up my money until I had enough to buy it back and the very day I did-" she paused to breathe through her tears. "It was gone! So that can't be her box! Which means - how could you get me a replica?"

Marshall had moved around the island to stand in front of her as soon as Mary had started to cry, and before she was done speaking, he had drawn her into his embrace. "It is her box, Mer, really it is. Brandi and I wouldn't torture you with a copy. Open it up and look inside. Your initials are there. The ones you carved – MES squared."

He held her; let her tears wet the fabric of his shirt until his words had time to penetrate her grief. Marshall knew the instant they did, for Mary pulled away to look up at him.

"How do you know about that?"

"Brandi told me."

Mary smiled softly. "I didn't think Squish would remember that – and the initials are there?"

He nodded. "Look and see for yourself."

Mary wiped at her tears and picked up the package. "Help me?" she asked.

Together they unwrapped Brandi's package and revealed Nana's box. Mary took a deep breath before she lifted the lid, her eyes instantly falling on the initials she had carved into the rosewood years ago.

"Oh, Nana," she breathed softly as she leaned against Marshall and let more tears fall.

* * *

Brandi came over to finish off Marshall's pancakes with Mary and tell of their adventures in recovering Nana's box.

"But all the credit really goes to Marshall," Brandi said, when she had finished telling her sister about meeting Marie yesterday. "If it wasn't for his friend Sam, we never would have found Nana's box."

Mary's eyes turned to her partner, who was busily wiping down the griddle. He looked up, flushing uncomfortably from Brandi's praise. "I told her from the beginning it was a long shot – that's why I didn't say anything to you, Mer. I didn't want to get your hopes up that we could find it after all these years or that the owner would give it back if we did." He shook his head. "If Olivia had owned the box instead of Marie, I don't think she would have given it to us so easily."

"You don't think so?" Brandi asked, as she munched on her last piece of bacon. "I think she definitely thawed towards us once I proved to her that the box really was ours and that I wasn't out to rob them."

Mary's eyebrows rose. "Marie's sister thought you were going to rob them?"

Marshall placed the griddle back in its place in her dark cupboard. "I thought surely you of all people would understand Olivia, Mer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He smirked as he leaned against the counter. "She's overprotective of her sister because of the accident that took Marie's hearing – just like you're overprotective of Brandi because you were more like a mother than a sister to her growing up."

Brandi laughed while Mary rolled her eyes. "I'm not _over_protective – but Squish certainly needed plenty of looking after when we were growing up."

Her baby sister scooted around the island and threw her arms around Mary. Marshall tried not to laugh as he saw the shocked, uncomfortable look that passed across his partner's face. "And that's why I wanted to get Nana's box back for you so badly, Mary. I wanted to get you something this year to show you that I appreciate how much you've done for me over the years. I love you, Sis."

Mary relaxed into her sister's embrace. "I love you too, Squish."

Marshall cleared his throat. "I should be going and let you-"

The girls broke apart and Brandi said, "Oh no, don't leave, Marshall. I have to be running home to Peter now anyway. You guys spend the day together since I spoiled Mary's plans for yesterday."

Mary showed Marshall her tree and he complimented her choice while admitting that it needed some finishing touches. She pretended to be insulted but was secretly pleased as he dug around in her meager box of decorations, before shaking his head and declaring that she didn't have the "right stuff". Off they went to the store to find that certain something that would make her Christmas merry and bright. It was funny, she reflected silently as he drove to the store, that when he was the one making the suggestions for a festive holiday and not some chipper youth at a tree lot, her desire to shoot someone completely disappeared.

The day passed quickly as they finished decorating her tree and watched un-Christmas movies together. Marshall cooked a simple meal of spaghetti with meat sauce, but to Mary who could count the number of times she had had a home cooked meal in the last six months on one hand, it might as well have been a gourmet feast. She leaned back in her chair, playing with the stem of her wine glass.

"What is it?" Marshall asked. "You're staring at me. Do I have sauce on my face?"

She smiled. "No, I was just thinking-"

"About?"

_It's now or never. _"This past week. You. Me."

Marshall's fork clattered against his plate, the sound loud in the sudden silence. "Really? What exactly were you thinking about, Mer?"

She interlaced her fingers and rested her chin on them, leaning towards him over the table. "I was thinking about all the times this past week you kissed me."

His Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he said, "I seem to recall you kissing me once."

She smiled lasciviously at him. "So I did – would you like me to kiss you again, Marshall?"

_What a loaded question!_

"What's going on here, Mer?"

"I should have thought that was obvious. You've been wanting more with me for months now-"

"More like years," he muttered under his breath, but she heard him all the same.

"Ok, years then. And I'm beginning to realize that maybe I want more too," she licked her lips and stood.

Marshall watched her approach warily. He didn't think he'd used any ingredients that had aphrodisiac qualities in tonight's menu, but from Mary's behavior he was beginning to wonder.

Without hesitation she leaned down and attacked his lips. This kiss was nothing like the others they had shared so far. Mary ravaged his lips, cheeks, and chin; hardly keeping still as she bit and sucked his face while Marshall sat rooted to his chair in shock. He had no doubt that she was trying to arouse him and where she wanted this to go. But this didn't even feel like kissing to him – it felt more like the "lipstick smearing" he had received that night in the barn when they were chasing the diamond smugglers who were after Treena. In a desperate attempt to prove his theory and control his libido, he grabbed her head and forced her lips back to his in an attempt to slow things down. Mary instantly broke away with a smile and began to lift the hem of her shirt but his wrists closed around hers.

"Don't," he whispered.

"You're right – let's move this into my room."

"Mary! What the hell has gotten into you?" he hissed, releasing her wrists and standing up to get some distance from her. "Shouldn't we talk about some things first?"

"What's to talk about? I know you want me and I thought I was doing a pretty good job of showing you what I wanted before you stopped me."

"I think you know that I want you for a lot longer than one night, Mer," he growled in frustration.

She came close and tried to kiss him but he turned his face away so her kiss landed on his ear. "We can have more than one night," she whispered against his skin, leaving a trail of kisses from his ear to his chin.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I refuse to be another Mark, Epps, Raph, or Faber. When and if we do this, I want it to be about love, not just getting laid."

Mary rolled her eyes and pulled away. "Geez, Marshall, did you just step out of the 1800's?"

He pushed on, ignoring her taunt. "I want to be different from every other guy you've been with – I want to show you that I can think with the head on my shoulders rather than the one in my pants." Marshall took a deep breath. "I can wait for your body, Mary Shannon, because I want your heart."

"What?" she looked up at him in astonishment, taking a couple steps back.

He reached out and captured her hand in his. "I want your heart – something you've never given to another man. It's been broken and shattered so many times that for you to trust it in another person's hands would be like committing suicide. But what you don't understand is that by never giving yourself to someone, you're condemning yourself to a bitter, lonely life alone."

Mary wrenched her hand free, wrapping her arms around herself. "I can't."

He sighed. "Do you trust me?"

She closed her eyes, knowing that the answer he wanted was one she was unable to give. "With my life," she admitted softly.

He kissed her cheek and said good night, once again walking out into the cold night.

* * *

The week before Christmas was a tense one at the office. Charlie and Stan were oblivious to the icy atmosphere as the two of them joked and even sang carols on coffee breaks. Mary glared at them from her desk, envious of the restoration of Stan's good mood. Eleanor showed up to take Stan to lunch daily and spread more holiday cheer around the office.

"And how's the Grinch today?" Eleanor asked as she dropped a tin of fudge on Mary's desk.

"Bah, Humbug," Mary growled.

"That's Scrooge," Eleanor laughed. "You know, you seemed happy at the holiday dinner last Friday – well, happy for _you_. I wonder what happened between then and now." She mused aloud and glanced at Marshall, who was studiously typing and avoiding eye contact with her.

"Buzz off."

"Aren't we testy today?" Eleanor leaned down and whispered in Mary's ear. "He loves you, you know."

Mary's head snapped up. "What the hell, Eleanor? Can't you mind your own business?"

"Why? I don't work here anymore."

Mary huffed and buried her head again.

"Look, I guess since I'm so happy I just hate to see anyone else look so miserable – especially Marshall. Haven't you kicked the poor guy enough, Mary? Love him or let him go – that's my advice," Eleanor whispered fiercely before she moved away to Charlie's desk.

"Yeah, well, who asked you?" Mary yelled after her.

Marshall looked up at her outburst and she blushed, burying her head in paperwork again. She knew she was being childish. There was no reason to freeze her partner out and not talk to him just because she couldn't give him what he wanted. She still couldn't believe they hadn't had sex the other night – no man had ever been able to resist her. But Marshall had walked away, claiming that he wanted her heart first. Did he understand how guilty she felt when his words had made her realize that she had never given Raphael, the man she had agreed to marry, her heart? What did that say about her? Was she really just a cold, heartless bitch?

But then she thought about the brief kisses she had shared with Marshall – those kisses had made her feel things she had never felt with all the fiery kisses with Raph. Again, what did that say about her?

* * *

Peter was surprised when he opened the door to see a shivering Mary standing on the doorstep.

"Mary! What a pleasant surprise! Come on in," he said, opening the door wide.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first-"

He waved her apology away. "You're always welcome here, you know that. Brandi will be thrilled to see you. She's baking cookies."

"She's _what_? Are you trying to turn my sister into a Stepford wife, Peter?"

He chuckled. "No, this is all her idea, I swear. They're the slice and bake kind, so I figure she can't go to wrong."

Mary smiled. "Nope, just burn 'em to a crisp like all Shannon women do."

He grimaced. "She did that with the first package but I think she's got the hang of it now."

They had reached the kitchen and Brandi looked up from the counter at the sound of their voices. She rushed to throw her arms around her sister while Peter beat a strategic retreat with a handful of warm cookies.

"What are you doing here? You hardly ever come to visit me," Brandi exclaimed as she returned to slicing dough and placing the slices on a cookie sheet.

"I – uh, just thought I'd drop by."

Brandi laughed. "Liar, liar, pants on fire! Does this have something to do with you and Marshall?"

Mary collapsed into a chair. "Squish, there is no 'me and Marshall'. At least not anymore," she muttered.

Her sister set down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. "Ok, start at the beginning and tell me what happened."

With a few false starts, Mary told her about the 'sex that didn't happen' at her house the other night.

Brandi wrinkled her forehead. "Did he say why he wouldn't sleep with you?"

Mary shifted in her seat and snitched another cookie.

Her baby sister pointed the sharp knife at her and Mary reeled back. "Don't make me threaten you – tell me."

So the rest of the story tumbled out.

"Oh Mary!" Brandi sighed. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard – well, next to Peter's proposal to me, of course. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"What do you want to do?" Brandi persisted.

"I don't know!" Mary snapped.

"Yes, you do. You said it yourself – you want more."

"Brandi – I can't give him what he wants."

"Why not?"

"Because-" she bit her lip.

Brandi covered her sister's hand. "It'll get broken?"

Mary nodded.

"It's been broken before and you've survived."

"I didn't even give my heart to Raph, Squish, and I was going to marry him. What does that say about me?"

"It says that you weren't in love with him – because when you are in love, your heart belongs to him before you even know it's gone," Brandi said dreamily, as she looked at the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger.

Mary smiled, leaned forward and kissed Brandi's cheek. She grabbed one last cookie and headed for the hall. "Thanks for your help, Squish!" she cried over her shoulder.

"You're welcome!" Brandi shrugged as she resumed her slicing. "I only hope she tells me someday what it was I said."

* * *

Marshall opened his door on Christmas Eve to see Mary standing on his doorstep, holding a pie box in her hands. He folded his arms across his chest. "Why didn't you just use your key?"

She ignored him. "I come bearing gifts: your yearly peppermint pie, Mr. Mann."

He smiled and let her precede him into the house. She sniffed the air appreciatively. He had been cooking – no baking, before she arrived. His TV was on the Christmas Music Choice channel and holiday hits were playing softly in the background. She grinned when she saw a plate of cookies and a glass of eggnog on the coffee table.

"Is that for you or Santa?" she teased, motioning to the plate of goodies.

"Let's just say Santa will be glad you brought me pie." He took the box from her and disappeared into the kitchen.

She removed her coat, sliding the small present from her pocket. She hid it behind her back as she sat on the couch and waited for him to return. When he came back with two plates of pie, she protested.

"Marshall, this is your pie – you aren't supposed to share it with me."

He leaned over and kissed a corner of her mouth, whispering against her skin. "I want to."

The brief contact sent desire shooting through her and Mary struggled to control her breathing as she took her plate from him. The two of them ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the lights from his tree and the music. When he took her empty plate and set it aside, he looked into her eyes.

"What are you doing here, Mer?"

She licked her lips nervously. "It's Christmas Eve - I needed to bring you the pie."

"That's all?"

"I didn't like how we left things the other night."

He smiled sadly, remembering how harsh he had been with her and how he had just walked out the door. No doubt she was feeling like he had rejected her, even though he had tried to make it clear what he really wanted.

"Mary, I hope you know that I wasn't saying I didn't want to-"

She lifted her hand and placed her fingers against his warm mouth. "Sh. Let me try and say this, okay?"

He nodded and she removed her fingers, but he captured them in his.

She smiled. "I think that you, and Brandi, have given me the best Christmas I've had since the one I spent with Nana. You will never know how much it means to me that I have her box back, Marshall. It's like having a piece of her and my father back. So – thank you." Her throat constricted with emotion and she paused.

He nodded, to show he was listening and she squeezed his hand trying to draw strength from his touch.

"You have been closer to me than any of the other men in my life – Mark, Raph - Epps and Faber don't even count because they were one night stands. They had my body, as you so adeptly pointed out the other night, but you knew the real me. When you got shot and I realized I could lose you that scared me more than I ever admitted to anyone. Then, these past six months when you were right next to me but not _with _me – I realized that there was more than one way I could lose you. You were alive and breathing but I'd still lost my best friend and - I can't lose you, Marshall."

He released her hand so that he could cup her face. "You won't lose me, Mer – well, not willingly, anyway."

She nodded. "I know, I believe you. But the fear of losing you, of losing people I care about, is what keeps me from opening up to them. That's why when you said you wanted my heart the other night in my kitchen, I panicked."

"But-"

"Let me finish."

"Sorry."

"It wasn't until I was talking to Brandi last night that I realized-" she took a deep breath, knowing the next words would change her life, "that my heart was already yours. I don't know how or when it happened-"

Her words were cut off as his mouth covered hers. Unlike the other night, Marshall was in complete control of this kiss. It wasn't one of his pecks and it wasn't one of her ravaging kisses. This kiss was slow, sweet, smoldering, and left Mary reeling. When Marshall pulled away several moments later so they could get air back in their lungs, she looked at him with a slightly confused expression.

"What were we talking about?"

Marshall laughed. "And I didn't even need the mistletoe this time."

She punched his shoulder. "I knew that was an excuse!"

"It worked, didn't it?"

She nodded. "Kiss me?"

He complied.

"So, are you going to give me what's behind your back?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Did you peek?"

"Guilty."

She pulled out the thin package and placed it in his hands. "Now, it's not much and it's kind of corny – though I know you like corny. I just thought you'd like a tangible reminder that you have my heart."

Marshall's eyes were sparkling. "Are you going to stop talking so I can open it, Mer?"

She punched his shoulder again and he laughed as he tore into the paper, and she watched his expression closely as he opened the box to reveal a handmade heart ornament.

"Mary," he breathed.

"Now, I know it's not that pretty – especially since I made it," Mary babbled. "But I wanted it to be a representation of my own heart. See, I broke it in half and then glued it back together and it's got nicks and scratches-"

He gave her a swift, but intense kiss to silence her rambles. "I love it, Mer."

"And if you shatter it into tiny pieces, I'll get my glock and shoot you and scatter your tiny pieces in the desert."

He laughed. "That's my girl. Now, help me find the perfect spot on the tree for this."

Mary found an empty spot right near the top, and together they hung it on the branches. Marshall drew her into his arms, swaying her gently to the music in the background.

"Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas this year, Mer?"

She smiled up and him. "You're all I wanted, Marshall."

He pulled her closer, whispering in her ear the lyrics of the song that was playing on the TV:

"_Oh I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
Baby all I want for Christmas is . . .  
You."

* * *

_

**So ends my first IPS Christmas fic - Happy New Year, everyone! **_  
_


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